


We're here for you

by o0citrusee0o



Series: Young Peter Parker [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Peter Parker, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bed-Wetting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Rape/Non-con, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23087671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0citrusee0o/pseuds/o0citrusee0o
Summary: Peter's been adjusting to his new normal as the adopted son of Tony and Pepper Stark, older brother to Teresa and Morgan. But despite his improving personal life, Peter still has bad days. In the calm of his new life, old memories are starting to rise to the forefront of Peter's mind.Memories that crash into his reality when a familiar but unwelcome face appears.A dirty secret that went to the grave with his biological family is about to come to light with his new parents.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Skip Westcott, Teresa Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Young Peter Parker [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636438
Comments: 357
Kudos: 961
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	1. Chapter 1

Peter sits pushing a toy car back and forth on a plain black coffee table, ignoring the world around him and focusing on the feeling of the wheels running over the flat surface against his palm.

He’s at the family therapist’s office. Once a week the Starks come as one big family for family therapy and help build Peter and Teresa’s trust with their new parents and sister.

Once a week Teresa comes alone to talk about…well Peter doesn’t know since he isn’t in there.

Once a week Peter comes alone to talk about his feeling and thoughts. Today is one of those days. He just finished up and like usual Tony signs Peter out to take home. But unlike the usual routine, Peter’s therapist stops Tony to whisper to him for a moment.

Its probably about his mood.

The last few days Peter’s mind has been full of what Doctor Sarah calls ‘problematic thoughts’ which are making him worry over things.

Doctor Sarah calls it anxiety.

Peter had just spent his session trying to work through his calming strategies, trying to relax and push his ‘problematic thoughts’ away. It was really hard to do it today, almost as hard as when he first started therapy and first started learning the strategies. 

Things had been going so good too. Peter was actually thinking he was doing better, he actually saw what Doctor Sarah was talking about when she first explained ‘good days’ and ‘bad days’. Peter was finally recognizing the differences and he’s been so proud that he’s hit that milestone. 

Another milestone was when Rhodey and Natasha watched the kids for the New Years part that Tony and Pepper had to go to without the children. Peter actually didn’t spend the evening hoovering and watching, waiting for something bad to happen. He enjoyed some board games between movies, even let Natasha see his new bed that Tony had designed. 

Yet here he sits. 

A knot in his stomach, a voice telling him to look out because something bad is going to happen, a twinge of pain in his chest every so often. 

“Hey buddy, ready to go?”

Peter glances up to Tony, shooting a quick glance towards Doctor Sarah behind the man.

“I’m ready if you are,” Peter replies. 

“Ok lets get your coat then.”

Tony leads Peter out of the office once they both are bundled up for the February winter weather of New York City. They head to the parking structure across the street and slip into a very normal looking black SUV. 

Tony bought it a few weeks ago saying its better for big family outings or when they don’t want to attract extra attention from the public. 

“We do have to make stop kiddo,” Tony speaks up in the silence of the vehicle, “Pepper asked me to pick up some children’s medicine, she thinks Morgan might be catching a cold and if one of you get it then you all probably will so its best to have medicine at the ready.”

Peter hums in response, still staring out the window. 

The SUV pulls into a quiet and unassuming CVS with very few vehicles in the parking lot. Peter tries to quiet his sigh of relief, hoping Tony doesn’t hear as the man gets out of the car. 

Tony doesn’t say a word, rather just smiles patiently as Peter gets out of the SUV and walk side by side with his new dad into the building. Peter follows along as Tony moves down aisles of medicine, finding what he’s looking for and quickly moving towards the register. As the man goes to pay, Peter’s eye drift to the magazines sitting on the display near the register.

His heart stutters in his chest as he reads the headlines. 

**‘Stark family grows! The battle of the heirs begins!’**

**‘Starks Adopt! Will the new additions live up to the legacy?’**

**‘Eldest child by law or Child by blood, who will be the reigning Stark?’**

**‘Little orphan Annie story comes to life with the Stark family’**

Below the headlines are photos of Tony, Pepper, and Morgan going about their lives before Peter and Teresa with the grainy photo of the whole family at the restaurant last week that sparked the media frenzy. Tony and Pepper had done a press conference, addressing the people with the facts about their new children and issue a warning to those who infringe on the family’s peace. So far the press have backed off, or at least from the child’s point of view it seems that way.

But he still flinches whenever the sun bounces off metal or glass, concerned it’s a camera taking a photo of him doing something that could disappoint his new family. It seems the media has similar concerns and more from these covers. 

Peter doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until he reaches out to touch one of the magazine covers.

His hand stops abruptly when Tony clasps the shaking fingers in his own.

Peter glances up, his new dad now frowning at him. Peter pulls his hand back with a whisper, “I’m sorry.” 

“No buddy, I’m sorry,” Tony leans down with a sad smile, “don’t listen to those people Pete or take what they say to heart.”

Peter doesn’t respond but instead casts a grim look at the magazines again.

Tony simple sighs and guides the boy out of store and into the SUV, but Peter is surprised when the man climbs into the back of the SUV by Peter rather then get in the driver’s seat. Tony sets the medicine up in the passenger seat but quickly moves his arm to Peter, hugging the boy close.

“All those magazines, internet posts, and news articles are crap,” Tony sighs. 

“But,” Peter finds his voice although its very quiet, “what they say is true.”

Tony frowns, “no they’re not. There is no ‘Stark heir war’. Everything will be split equally kid because we love you all equally. Understand?”

Peter nods.

“And there is no ‘orphan annie’ because this didn’t start as a publicity stunt. We adopted you kids because we love you two as much as we love Morgan. Ok?”

Peter nods again.

“And ‘living up to the Stark legacy’? Kid my dad made me go down that path in life and it was not pleasant. I would never do that to any of you kids. What I want is for you kids to live lives that make you happy. You find science makes you happy and you want to invent for SI, go ahead. You find painting murals on the sidewalks in Paris is what makes you happy, go ahead as long as you follow some rules about staying in contact and letting us help you if you have financial troubles—”

Peter lets out a soft chuckle.

“So what I’m say,” Tony continues, “is no matter what those people say or pretend to know, it is what Pepper and I say that matters more. We say we love you three kids all equally and all we want is for you three to be happy and healthy, to grow into three decent adults who will live satisfying lives.”

Peter leans further into Tony’s side, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes.

Tony pulls the boy close and continues, “there will always be people in the media talking about us kiddo, I wish I could make them stop but I can’t. All I can do is have press conferences like Pepper and I did last week to try and set the information right. Whether people listen to us or not is up to them. But remember this: whatever you read about us or your siblings or yourself in the media, if it bothers you I want you to come to me or Pepper so we can talk about it. I don’t want you to hold everything until you explode kid, I’ve been there and done that so let me tell you its not a great experience. Ok?”

Peter nods into the man’s coat.

“Good, now all this emotional stuff has me craving donuts.”

Peter snorts and looks up at the man, “its almost two in the afternoon.”

“Any time is donut time kiddo,” Tony winks at the boy, “plus I’ll let you have two donuts if you don’t tell your mom we made the stop. Deal?”

Peter thinks for a moment with a sly smile, “Make it two donuts and a hot cocoa and you’ve got a deal.”

“You strike a hard bargain Peter Parker-Stark but I’ll accept since I’m in a desperate need for some sugar and something warm to drink.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Welcome back Boss, Welcome back Master Peter,” the British voice echoes in the elevator as it takes the pair up to their home floor. 

“Thank you Jarvis,” Tony smiles, “anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing of note until thirty minutes ago sir,” the computer responds.

“Thirty minutes ago?” Tony glances at Peter with a raised eyebrow, “what happened?”

“Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes arrived at the tower at that time sir.”

“Hmmm what are those two doing here? I thought the plan was to meet up this weekend,” Tony mutters quietly.

“Captain Rogers is dropping of the file you asked for. Sargent Barnes was interested in seeing the children again since they haven’t seen them since the Christmas party.”

“He could’ve waited till the picnic,” Tony sighs. 

Peter knew about the event. It’s being called a picnic despite being February at the request of Morgan. Tony explained to Peter and Teresa not to long ago that he worked with a special group of people to help make the world a safer place. The same group that Peter met at the Christmas party and the same group that wants to meet up for a wintery day out. So a large ice skating party was set up, with snacks and hot cocoa supposedly on the menu at the event. 

Morgan argued that food, drinks, and hanging in a park makes it a picnic even though its cold, snowy, and definitely not summertime. No one could change her mind. 

“Ok buddy, lets go say hi,” Tony leads the boy into the apartment. 

After leaving their outerwear in the entryway, Peter follows his dad to the living room where voices can be heard laughing. He peers out from behind Tony, seeing Morgan and Teresa hanging off of Mr. Barnes as he walks around the room. 

Pepper sits on the couch watching with Mr. Rogers, the pair talking to each other while shooting glances at the man and girls.

“Ah I see the girls are making good use of your military muscles Bucky,” Tony laughs at the sight.

Mr. Barnes spins around, the girls swinging widely, “Hey Tony! Hey Peter!”

“Hello Mr. Barnes,” Peter politely greets the man.

The man rolls his eyes, “Bucky kid.”

“Ok Mr. Bucky,” Peter smirks.

The man goes to talk again but Teresa yanks on him, causing the adult to tip over.

“Hello Peter, welcome back,” Mr. Rogers speaks up and offers a hand, “glad to see you again son.”

Peter looks at the man.

His small smile disappears.

Yellow hair.

Blue eyes.

Just like **that man’s**.

An image shoots across Peter’s eyelids as he blinks.

Another blonde person, another hand outstretched, another set of blue eyes watching him.

Peter jerks away, fear squeezing the air out of his lungs. 

He feels the tingle of a hand that once reached out and touched places under his clothes. His body begins to shake as the memories trying to claw their way to the surface of his mind.

“Peter? Buddy? You alright?”

Peter looks away from the blue gaze to his father, Tony’s brown eyes anchoring the boy back in reality.

“I’m sorry,” Peter blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

The boy feels his eyes burn, water falling from them as he pushes past his dad and rushes to the back of the apartment towards his room. 

The boy’s breath coming short and fast, his legs taking him straight into his closet after slamming his bedroom door and the closet door after himself.

Peter quietly crawls to the back corner of the closet, pulling his long dress pants around him, the fabric becoming a curtain in the darkness around him.

His parents, two doors, and fabric. That’s what stands between him and **that man**.

No wait.

His parents wouldn’t let **him** here. 

That isn’t **him.**

Is it? 

Peter’s head begins to ache as he tries to separate old images of **him** and Mr. Rogers, trying to remember the Christmas party and Mr. Rogers at it. 

Or maybe it aches from the tears he can’t stop from falling down his face and onto his arms, damp fabric rubbing against his skin annoyingly. 

Peter only cries harder as he realizes he just ran from his father’s friend like a weirdo. 

A knock on the closet door causes the boy to jerk so hard his body bangs loudly against the walls he presses closely too. 

“Peter? Baby its Mamma, can I come in?” 

“Mamma?” 

The word is quiet on his lips but it must have been loud enough for the door opens, some light spilling into the area as Pepper steps into the closet. 

“Oh honey,” she murmurs as she crouches on the other side of the pants, touching the foot Peter didn’t realize was sticking out. 

“I’m going to push the pants away Peter, ok?” 

He doesn’t respond, rather he nudges his foot closer to his new mother, focusing on the feeling of her rubbing his foot just like she did the night before during movie night. 

The clothes part and he glances up from his lap to see her kneeling over him. 

But she doesn’t pull him out. Rather she twists and sit against the wall, mirroring Peter as her hand moves to his hair and begins to play with it. 

“I’m going to ask you questions Peter, but they’ll be yes/no so you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Ok?” 

Peter leans against her side. His new mom won’t let him get hurt. She carried him to the hospital after he threw up on her, she’d never let anything happen to him. 

So he nods. 

“Did you run out because Steve scared you?” 

Peter hesitates. 

It wasn’t Steve. That’s not who scares him. He was fine at the Christmas party, why is this happening? 

Peter shrugs, he doesn’t know how to say the words to explain. 

“Ok. Well, does Steve remind you of someone you’re scared of?” 

Peter nods. 

“Was that person, was he mean to you?” She asks quietly. 

Peter nods slowly. 

“Did he do something to you—” 

“Stop,” Peter cuts her off with a whisper. “I don’t want to say.” 

There is a pause, he knows she’s thinking. He hopes she doesn’t ask more, he doesn’t want to tell her about **him**. If he does, he’ll start remembering. 

“Ok, I’ll have your father talk to him, maybe we can figure something out so you don’t have to see Steve Saturday at ice skating.” 

“No!” Peter gasps, “he’s dad’s friend! He has to go, I’ll be ok by Saturday.” 

“Honey it’s Thursday,” Pepper frowns. 

“I’ll be ok,” he whispers, “I won’t ruin it for everyone because my brain is stupid. I know Mr. Rogers isn’t **him** , I just got…well…confused. Just for a second I was confused. I’m ok now.” 

They sit there quietly for a moment, Pepper just stroking Peter’s hair as she holds him close. 

“How about this,” she finally speaks up, “I’ll show you some pictures of Steve on my phone. You can look at them and tell me what’s different about Steve from whoever was mean to you.” 

Peter nods, he can do that. Pictures don’t hurt you, they stay still. 

Looking up, Peter watches as Pepper lowers her phone for him to see. It’s a picture of Mr. Rogers beside Tony, both smiling and with their arms around each other’s shoulders out in a desert somewhere. 

“Can you see something that’s different between Steve and the person you remember?” Pepper probes. 

“Mr. Rogers has a nice smile,” Peter whispers, “it’s a real smile. Even his eyes are smiling.” 

“Good. Anything else?” 

“Mr. Roger’s hair is darker yellow. He’s taller and well bigger. He’s—he’s an adult.” 

“The person you thought of, he has lighter hair and is shorter as well as younger than Steve?” 

Peter nods, “he was when I last saw him,” he whispers. “I’m sorry mamma, I don’t know why this happened. I saw Mr. Rogers before at Christmas, this shouldn’t have happened.” 

“Hey now, things happen. Remember what Doctor Sarah said, sometimes we remember things when we don’t want to and that’s ok. We just need to use our strategies to help us through the unwanted thoughts and memories.” 

“Mrs. Boss,” Jarvis’ voice cuts in softly from the ceiling, “boss was wondering if he should send the Captain and Sargent home now.” 

“Yes Jarvis, I think its best we just meet up again on Saturday,” Pepper responds. 

“Wait!” Peter calls out, “I want, I want to try again. Mamma I want to try again.” 

“Try again doing what sweetie?” 

“To say hi to Mr. Rogers,” he whispers, “I-I think I can do it, I mean, if you stay with me.” 

“Of course Peter,” she hugs him, “Jarvis can you have Tony bring Steve down the hall? We’ll meet him outside Peter’s bedroom door.” 

“Understood Mrs. Boss.” 

Slowly Peter pulls away from his mother, crawling to his feet. He doesn’t leave the closet until Pepper is holding his hand tightly, leading the way to the bedroom door that sits open and waiting. He tucks closer to her side as they exit the doorway but he doesn’t flinch when his eyes land on Mr. Rogers, something he is proud of. 

Tony stands against the wall watching intently as Pepper steps up to Mr. Rogers with Peter. The man kneels so he is lower then Peter in height, as if that would make the massive man seem smaller. Peter thought it was silly. 

“Hi Peter,” Mr. Rogers says quietly. 

Peter can see it now. 

Mr. Rogers’ eyes are bright blue. A happy summer blue. He’s got a nice face. A nice smile. Big shoulders. He isn’t **him**. 

“Hi Mr. Rogers,” Peter slowly holds out a hand. 

The man’s eyes widen and he reaches out to gently shake the boy’s hand, “call me Steve kid, I’ll keep reminding you every time we meet.” 

“I’m sorry I ran away Mr. Steve,” Peter quietly apologizes. 

“It’s ok son, we all have moments. Besides, we just did a redo and now everything is fine.” 

Peter nods and leans into Pepper’s side heavily. He can feel his energy draining and he starts feeling tired. 

The man stands up and shakes hands with Tony, “I better get Bucky home before he breaks your coffee table again. I’ll see you all Saturday if that’s ok.” 

The two men glance towards Peter and Pepper. 

“Yes, we’ll see you Saturday Steve,” Pepper politely replies, “remember to prepare yourself since Clint’s bringing his kids and Scott is bringing his little girl.” 

“Yeah and I know there are a few adults who will give the kids a run for their money for being trouble,” the blonde sighs with a warm smile. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony offers, drawing the man down the hallway. 

“Do you want a snack Peter?” Pepper offers. 

“Yes mamma,” hugs her waist, “just a little snack please.” 

“Ok baby, lets get the girls too. We can use that to distract them from chasing after Bucky now that the man is their jungle gym.” 

Peter giggles a little and walks down the hall hand in hand with his new mother. 

But behind the small smile the boy struggles to push his memories back into the box he puts them in, the images struggling to spill into his brain and thoughts. 

He just holds her hand, trying to focus on that and the food he’s going to get and hoping the bad thoughts will go away again. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey Einstein! Lets play together while Teresa sleeps._

_Sure! What are we going to play? Jenga again? Connect four? Oh! Can we play that word game again, please!_

_Naw Einstein, I’ve got something better. Come sit beside me and I’ll show you a cool big kid’s game._

_Really?!_

_Really, now come here Einstein_

Peter jerks awake, his breath coming in short pants as he stares at the star covered ceiling.

His ceiling.

His room.

Not **his** living room.

Not back there.

Slowly he stretches his arms and legs, trying to find a comfortable position but stops.

His legs are wet.

His pajama bottoms are wet.

“No, no, no no no,” he whispers and throws back the blanket and turns on the lights embedded in the headboard of the bed.

In the dim light he can see the dark color of the sheets and his pajamas, the scent of urine strong against his nose.

“No,” Peter cries, “not again.”

“Master Peter,” Jarvis speaks up softly, “you appear to be distressed, shall I wake the boss or Mrs. boss?”

“No!” he squeaks, “no don’t. I can do this. I can fix this. I just—I just need things. I need baking soda, yeah I need that.”

Cleaning his tears up, Peter gets out of bed while pulling all the blankets and sheets with him.

“There is some baking soda under the kitchen sink,” Jarvis speaks up.

“Ok, ok, I can do this,” Peter pulls the pile along the floor towards the bedroom door. 

The boy quietly glances out into the hallway, not hearing anyone else awake, he proceeds to drag the soiled fabrics down the hall and to the laundry room. He opens the front-loading washer, pushing his blanket and sheets inside before closing the door.

“Jarvis, how much soap do I need to wash these?”

“Fill the blue cap from the yellow bottle beside you,” the AI responds.

Peter follows the instruction, struggling with the bottle’s weight but managing to not spill.

“Now pull the try to your left open and dump the liquid into the front compartment.”

Peter follows along.

“Now take a half of a cap of the blue bottle and dump that into the second compartment of the tray, that’s the softener.”

Peter follows.

“Perhaps you should add your pajamas before I instruct you how to start the washer Master Peter.”

“But I don’t want to dirty my other clothes.”

“There are some clean towels Mrs. Boss uses to clean up messes in the cabinet behind you. I suggest wrapping up in one of those and adding your pajamas to the washer.”

Peter does as asked, dancing foot to foot as the cold seeps in more now without his pajamas on.

“Now what Jarvis?”

“Now press the top left button. Turn the dial to extra large load. Press the green button.”

The washer clicks to locked and water is heard rushing into the machine.

“Ok, thanks Jarvis.”

“My pleasure Master Peter. May I suggest getting a warm shower before your skin becomes irritated by the urine?”

“I gotta get the baking soda first,” the boy replies as he jogs to the kitchen, trying to keep warm as he goes.

He gets the baking soda, running back to his room and dumping the box all over the small wet patch on the mattress.

“Ok, now I’ll get that shower,” he tells the AI.

“You’ll need to let that soak for eight to ten hours Master Peter.”

“I know. This happens sometimes,” he says softly, “I’ll just do my laundry and put the clean sheets on the floor until I can fix the mattress.”

“As you wish young sir.” 

Peter takes the shower, snuggling in sweats instead of a second pair of pajamas. He hopes wearing the sweats will help keep him awake to finish the laundry. 

That and he decides to play cartoons on the TV afterwards, telling Jarvis he needs to stay awake to finish his laundry. Oddly enough the AI finds no protocols for late night adventures such as this and allows the boy to do so. 

Nearly two hours later Peter is dragging his clean sheets and pajamas back to the bedroom where he folds the sheets at the end of the bed, throwing the blankets on the floor. He puts down several towels on the floor, his pillow and the blankets on top of the towel to make a new sleeping spot. Changing back into his pajamas Peter lays down on the floor quietly in the dim light of his headboard. 

“Hey Jarvis.”

“Yes Master Peter?”

“What time are my parents waking up?”

“Boss and Mrs. Boss have their alarm set for seven.”

“Can you wake me up before anyone comes in my room? Like if breakfast looks close to being ready or something?”

“Of course Master Peter.”

“And what time should I use the vacuum to clean the mattress?”

“It’s current 3:27 am so between 11:30 and 1:30 would work young sir. The internet says the longer the better.”

“Is anything going on at that time for us?”

“Your sisters will be at school. Boss will be taking a conference call at noon. Mrs. Boss will be downstairs reviewing a proposal at eleven. Your morning tutor will be leaving at noon.”

“So shortly after twelve would be a good time to vacuum without getting caught,” Peter decides.

“May I ask why you are sneaking about Master Peter? I can assure you that based on my data and observations, Boss and Mrs. Boss will not be upset by you having an accident.”

“But if they know then I’ll have to tell them why I had an accident,” Peter whispers. 

“It’s called an accident because it was unexpected,” Jarvis responds, “I fail to see why you need to explain an accident.” 

“It’s happened before Jarvis,” Peter sighs, “when I was seven it happened a lot and I had to wear—well—I wore—” Peter’s words choke with a hiccup as he tries not to cry. “Then when it happened at my foster homes I got in trouble and they kept trying to put me—in—them—” Peter’s breath catches again as he tries to stop the need to cry. “I don’t want to wear them Jarvis. I’m a big kid—I don’t—I’m not a baby—I don’t want them—”

“I understand Master Peter,” The AI finally responds. “I shall alert you tomorrow afternoon when there is no one around to notice you using the vacuum. I shall be discreet young master.”

“Thank you Jarvis,” Peter swallows another sob.

“My pleasure. May I turn on some calming white noise or lullabies for you young sir? My data indicates this may help prevent another nightmare.”

“Can you play some piano music?”

The room soon fills with soft piano music and the gentle sound of waves hitting the seashore, the tune being a familiar nursery song.

Peter focuses on the song, picturing himself on the beach with his family in the hot summer sun.

As he drifts off, the sight of his laughing parents and sisters fills his little mind, sending the bad thoughts back to the corners of his mind once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday morning Peter jolts awake, jerking his sheets aside to check his bed and find it dry. Falling back into the pillows, he takes a moment to steady his heart and thoughts. 

He had managed to keep his accident Thursday into Friday quiet, vacuuming up the baking soda and fixing his bedding shortly after twelve, finishing right before his parents showed up for lunch with him. 

He also managed to get through the day without any freak outs or big thoughts of **him** , just little annoying thoughts. 

Peter felt pretty proud since the last time something like this happened it had taken over a week to snap back. 

But his foster home had also shoved him in a diaper and made a big deal about of how bad having accidents was. Jarvis was too nice to do something like that. 

In fact, the AI had been providing Peter with soothing white noise, discreet prompts to avoid drinking liquids after certain points in the night, and reminders that his parents wouldn’t be mad if it happens again. 

Jarvis was definitely better than the people at the foster homes.

“Master Peter, you need to get up and start your day. You’ll be leaving in a couple hours for the winter picnic.” 

“Ok Jarvis, I’m going,” the boy sighs. 

“Be prepared, your sisters are extremely excited for today and are displaying this excitement loudly.”

Peter opens his bedroom door and can hear squealing yells down the hallway from the living room, “yeah I can hear that. Thanks Jarvis.”

The boy manages to get through breakfast and getting ready for the outing without many problems aside from yelling at his sisters twice to stop jumping and landing on him every time he walked into the living room. Pepper and Tony are focused on trying to get the girls ready, having short conversations with Peter between attempts to tie back hair and put warm socks on the two wiggly worms. 

Peter gets himself ready, putting on the clothes his new mother picked out for him to stay warm with. He felt he did a good job getting ready up until the family was preparing to leave the apartment. 

“Peter I want you to put this in your zipper pocket,” Pepper hands a spare inhaler to the boy. “Better safe than sorry sweetie.”

Peter was about to argue about being alright without it, except Teresa knocked over a coat rack as she swung her new ice skates around.

Tucking the inhaler into his pocket, Peter follows his parents to the SUV which Happy drives through the city and through some suburbs to a large park, the man making loud statements kids being loud, snow being to cold, and saying what he could be doing instead of following the Stark family around. 

Peter can see people hoovering around the ice-skating rink in the small park, other families playing in the snow, and some kids even having snowball fights under the trees. 

Not central park or the park back in Queens but it looked inviting despite being snowy and cold.

“It looks like most of the crew are here already,” Tony mutters as the family gets out of the SUV.

Tony and Pepper lead the little troupe of kids down into the park with Happy following diligently, their path aiming for the group beside the ice-skating rink that have commandeered some picnic tables and set up lawn chairs.

In the snow.

It looks like a summer picnic except there is snow and everyone is bundled up. 

“There’s my favorite nephew and nieces,” Rhodey comes out of the group with arms open for hugs.

“Uncle Rhodey,” Teresa and Morgan squeal while jumping the man.

“Hey Rhodey,” Tony greets the man around his daughters.

Peter hangs back as his parents talk to the man, glancing at the people behind him.

Natasha sits at the picnic table with Ms. Hope and Ms. Laura, bundled up baby Nathaniel playing with toys in his mom’s lap. Mr. Clint and Mr. Scott are chasing the other little kids around, Peter can see Mr. Steve tugging at Mr. Bucky and Mr. Sam to get on the ice with him. Doctor Bruce hands out hot drinks to Mr. Thor and Mr. Loki at his end of the picnic table. The two teens that came with Mr. Clint at Christmas sit on their phones in two lawn chairs in the snow, unaware of the snow drifting down from the tree above them and landing in their hair. 

“Cassie!” Morgan yells and runs after the little brunette.

“Lila!” Teresa chases down the other little girl. 

It became a dog pile of little girls the instant all four collided, laughter filling the crisp winter air. 

“Hey Peter,” Tony bends down, “wanna go skate with the other kids?”

He nods and follows his sisters, plopping down in the snow in front of Mr. Clint and Mr. Scott as the two adults try to go over the skating rules to the talkative group. Peter hasn’t been as verbal as the girls about his excitement, but he is excited. He’s gone skating a few times with his aunt and uncle but that was several years ago. 

Peter can see he and Cooper are the only two really listening, the girls still haven’t stopped talking yet. 

Or even really look at Mr. Clint and Mr. Scott demonstrating how to fall on the ice. 

Which is probably why the two boys get to skate freely moments later while the two men try a second time to talk to the four excited little girls. 

“So,” Cooper begins as he steps onto the frozen man made ‘pond’, “ever skated before?”

Peter finishes tying his laces and steps onto the ice, “yeah, but It’s been awhile.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll come back to you,” Cooper chuckles and pushes away.

Peter attempts to follow. It takes him a few minutes to really get his balance and movements less jerky but once he does, Peter can’t help but grin at Cooper as the pair begin to skate around each other.

“Look at you boys go,” Mr. Steve laughs as Cooper and Peter do circles around him. 

“Yeah Sam,” Mr. Bucky smirks, “look how good those two kids are doing.”

Peter watches Mr. Sam almost fall again, waving his arms to gain his balance.

“You’re no better Barnes,” Mr. Sam snaps and nudges the other man.

Peter laughs as Mr. Bucky hits the ice butt first. The man glares at the two adults and kids laughing at him.

“You ok Mr. Bucky?” Cooper skates up beside the man, “need a hand?”

Mr. Bucky shakes the boy off, “nah. Steve will help.”

“Don’t want my help?” Mr. Sam laughs.

“If you help then you both will end up on your butts,” Peter quietly adds.

Now Mr. Bucky laughs, “Peter’s right man. Stevie! Give me a hand!” 

Peter and Cooper take off then as the girls call out in an attempt to reach the boys, Mr. Clint and Mr. Scott herding the four across the ice.

Cooper skates away from his sister.

Peter skates in a circle. He wants to dash off and make Morgan and Teresa skate to get him but part of him doesn’t want to do that. Morgan’s got the ice skating down but Teresa clings to her still trying to figure it out. 

In the end the group reaches Peter and somehow they end up in some kind of conga line going around the pond to catch Cooper.

After that Cooper and Peter end up racing each other. Which leads to another game. Then to another fun chase. The pair even trying to run on the toe picks of their blades to see who can go furthest with falling. 

Both fail quickly at this and end up laughing while scooting across the ice on their butts. 

Mr. Sam and Mr. Bucky even get the hang of skating, Peter notices the pair skating with Mr. Steve around the edge of the pond playfully. Swallowing his nerves, Peter skates up beside Mr. Steve in hopes the man can see that he isn’t afraid and that he’s feeling better compared to Thursday. 

The blonde man is startled but ends up smiling the whole time Peter skates beside him. 

Except Peter didn’t stay to long. Mr. Bucky and Mr. Sam were being a little annoying because they kept racing around the pond and shouting ‘on your left’ every time they passed Mr. Steve and Peter. 

When the signal for lunch is called, Peter’s face is sore from smiling so much while his body is warm from skating so much. 

After lunch the adults are tired of skating, telling the kids to play in the snow instead. Cooper declares Lila and Cassie to be on his team while Peter leads his sisters into a battle of the best snowman. The six kids dash around, spreading out near the trees to create large snowballs to push back towards the adults sitting area. 

“Peter we need sticks for the arms!” Morgan exclaims.

The older boy nods and dashes into the little grove of trees to find some fallen twigs for the arms before Cooper comes and takes the good ones.

“Well, well, well. This is a surprise,” a voice catches Peter’s attention as he digs up twigs.

Turning Peter looks up to see who is talking to him.

Ice blue eyes.

Pale yellow hair.

A smile that doesn’t reach the eyes.

Peter feels his stomach drop to his toes, the twigs in his hands snapping under the surge of fear that causes Peter’s body to jerk.

The last person Peter wants to see stands watching him from beside a pine tree.

**Him**


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey Einstein, long time no see,” Skip takes a few steps forward, “its been several years.”

“Y-you, you’re, but I thought—” Peter stutters nervously. 

“Spit it out Einstein.”

“You’re supposed to be gone.”

The older boy laughs, “yeah well I was a minor too. I did my time, I’m all better now. I’m now living the life of a well-adjusted young adult, even got into NYU since my juvie record was sealed.”

Peter shutters, this guy did such horrid things yet he gets to live a normal life. How is that fair?

Peter frowns and crawls backward, “go away.”

“Now Einstein don’t say that. I’ve missed you. So ironic that the suburb your family decides to visit today is the same one my family moved to after you went off to tell those stories.”

“They weren’t stories,” Peter hisses as he his hands wander to his twisting stomach.

“You said you didn’t want it, that you wanted me to stop.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah well I never heard you say those words Einstein.”

Peter’s breath continues to shorten. His eyes burn as tears blur the edges of his vision. He stands but his legs shake, hand shaking too as he tries to find some place to put them.

“But really Einstein, enough about the past. I’m very interested in the fact you have a new family.”

Skip takes a few more steps forward.

Peter takes the same amount backwards.

“Adopted by the power couple of New York City, that’s quite a special fate Einstein,” Skip chuckles.

Peter winces.

Skips laugh sounds wrong.

“What do you want Skip,” Peter whispers.

“Why Einstein I just miss you so much. I want to spend time with you again, we have a bond.”

“No, no, no,” Peter backs away trembling, “no way.”

“Oh Einstein,” Skip shakes his head, “we are definitely going to hang out together again.”

“No we aren’t!” Peter snaps loudly.

“Yes we are,” Skip continues with that sick smile. “I’m your best friend Peter, I care about you, don’t you miss hanging with me? All the fun things we got to do together?”

“Those weren’t fun, you-you,” Peter fights to find words, “you did nice things to make the bad things feel less bad. That’s—that’s what the doctors said.”

“But did those doctors love you as much as I did? Those bad things would’ve felt better if you just had listened to me Peter,” Skip tries to move closer to Peter.

Peter moves back, “no, no, no. Go away! I have my family, they love me!”

“Will they still love you if they knew your dirty secret?” Skip sneers, “when those magazines find out, they will have a field day writing things about your new family. How they let a dirty boy into their home. How their have a broken and dirty older brother to look after. They’ll be so embarrassed.”

“No, be quiet,” Peter hisses, “the magazines know nothing,” panic rising up in Peter and the need to run away growing so strong he struggles to keep still. 

“They’ll find out Einstein, it’s the media. The only way they won’t find out and not be mean to your new family is if you and I don’t say anything,” Skip shrugs. “I won’t say anything if you won’t and start hanging with me again.” Skip snaps his fingers as if he has an idea, “I bet the Starks need a babysitter, they probably want someone who is familiar with you and Teresa.”

“No,” Peter’s body shakes as he stumbles, “no.”

_“Hey Peter!”_

Peter spins on his feet to see Morgan coming around the bush.

“Peter you’re taking too long. Did you get lost? We just needed two sticks,” the little girl asks as she comes up beside him.

“Well hello there,” Skip steps towards the pair.

Peter’s pain and fear ebb away as the need to protect fills him. He grabs Morgan and pushes his sister behind him, “don’t talk to her,” Peter hisses.

“Who is that Peter,” Morgan asks quietly.

“I’m Peter’s friend,” Skip responds faster than Peter.

“Petey?” Morgan questions her brother.

Peter shakes his head, “go back to the adults Morgan. This isn’t safe. He’s not safe.”

The little girl tugs on Peter’s arm, “come on Peter.”

“She’s cute Peter,” Skip keeps looking towards Peter’s sister, “did Teresa grow up cute too?”

“Run Morgan,” Peter whispers and shoves his sister.

The little girl takes off.

“Now Peter, why’d you do that?” the older boy rubs his hair, “you’re making things harder Einstein.”

“Stay away from them,” Peter kicks snow at Skip, the urge to protect Morgan stronger than his need to run away. 

“That’s not nice Peter, when did you get to be such a bad boy? You were such a good boy back then.” Skip dusts his legs off.

“I’m not bad, you are! Everyone told me the truth!” 

“And when I tell the truth about you to the newspaper, you’ll be the bad one. Ruining the Stark name. You're dirty Peter, only I can love you because your dirty,” Skip sneers. 

What little courage Peter had mustered now slips free, some of the thoughts Peter has had before echoes in Skip’s words.

Distracted by the thoughts and images, the ghost hands touching his body, Peter doesn’t see Skip move again until the older boy grab’s Peter’s arm.

Startled, Peter screeches in shock, as if he’s been burnt by the contact. 

“PETER!?!”

Tony’s voice in the distance causes Skip to let go and take off running.

But the damage is done.

Peter drops to the ground but doesn’t feel the snow. He feels scratch bedsheets twisting around his body and knot around his wrists. He doesn’t feel the heat of his winter coat, rather he feels twinges of large hands touching his skin, pinching some places and burning painfully in others. He doesn’t see trees and sky as he falls backwards, he sees the dark blue ceiling and sick smile that doesn’t reach icy blue eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Morgan**_

Morgan is a smart girl. Maybe not as smart as her dad or Peter, but smart enough to see Peter was scared. Not a little scared like her and Teresa were when the spider fell off the ceiling yesterday. No he looked big scared. When the strange older boy spoke to Morgan, Peter pushed her away. He was crying. Morgan isn’t sure if her brother knew about the tears on his face. 

But Morgan is a smart girl.

So she runs.

She runs up the hill away from the tree grove. 

She runs pass Cooper and the other girls trying to fix their snowmen. 

She runs into the circle of adults chatting together in chairs.

She runs right into her daddy’s legs, tears spilling from her eyes.

“D-daddy! You-you have to,” sobs, “you need to,” hiccup, “Help Petey!”

“Morgan sweetie take a breath,” her mother chides her, “we can’t understand you.”

Morgan takes a breath in, the task being hard from the run and now her tears.

“Ok try again,” her dad prompts her.

“Peter!” Morgan yells, “a stranger was talking to Peter! He was scaring Peter! Daddy you have to save Peter!”

In an instant Morgan is lifted from her father and placed into her mother’s lap, her daddy jumping up into action.

“Where’s Peter Morgan,” he asks.

“That way. At the tree grove,” she points and her father takes off running.

“Clint, Sam, Rhodey, Bucky with me. Everyone else get the kids up here and keep them safe,” Steve commands. 

Morgan watches as they run off through the snow to save her big brother.

She hopes they get there fast.

_**Tony**_

Tony comes across Teresa, Cooper, Lila, and Cassie a few yards into his run.

“Teresa! Teresa!” Tony reaches his daughter, “go to mom sweetie.”

“Why?”

“Tony!”

Scotts runs up beside him, “I’ll talk to the kids, go find Peter.”

Tony nods and takes off toward the grove of trees and half naked bushes. 

It’s so close yet to far away at the same time. 

Drawing closer he still doesn’t see his son.

Was Morgan wrong?

Fear gripped the man’s heart at the next thought: is he too late?

His question is answered by a loud screech of a child.

His child.

“PETER!?!” Tony can only yell in response.

“Tony the bush area!” Sam shouts as he comes up beside the man. 

Running around the bush Tony finds his son. Peter lays in the white snow on his back, one would think the boy is resting or preparing to make a snow angel. Except for the glazed look the boy holds toward the sky, as if his mind is elsewhere.

“Peter,” Tony drops beside his son. Peter’s clothes are all in place, Tony searches the boy for injuries and finds none. But his son doesn’t react to the movements either, scaring Tony more.

“Whoever it is may still be nearby,” Steve snaps and everyone but Sam take off to find the culprit.

Sam kneels beside father and son, eyeing Peter carefully. 

“I think he’s either intensely disassociating or in the midst of a flashback,” Sam gathers from the lack of response Peter is giving as he checks the boy’s vitals. 

Tony holds out his phone, a blue light flashing over the boy’s body and the AI Jarvis admitting the same diagnosis as Sam. 

“What do we do?” Tony asks after a second of processing the information.

“Either option we need to gently bring him back to reality,” Sam concludes, “gentle pressure to ground him, talk to him about casual things.”

“Like what?” Tony gasps.

“Like where he is, where the others are, what you guys did this morning, what you’ll do later,” Sam supplies.

Tony watches as Sam begins to squeeze Peter’s arm, “hey Peter its Sam. You’re safe buddy, me and your dad are right here with you. Do you feel me squeezing your arm Peter?”

Tony reaches out and begins to mimic Sam’s movements on the other arm, “hey Underoos its dad. You’re at the park buddy with me and mom and your sisters. You we’re playing in the snow and soon we’ll go home and have a warm dinner. Mom and I are thinking soup will be good to have tonight.”

“Peter I know something scared you,” Sam continues, “your dad and I are right here to keep you safe. When you’re ready to come back, we’ll be right here waiting.”

The pair continue to apply pressure and speak to the boy. To Tony the next couple minutes feel like an eon to him, the stress and worry digging into his gut and twisting like a knife.

“Come on Peter, come back to me son,” Tony pleads.

_**Peter**_

Time doesn’t register the right way to Peter either. The boy is lost in a swirl of memories, images flicking before his eyes but never playing out completely as a familiar voice keeps disrupting the images. A voice that doesn’t belong with the images.

“Come on Peter, come back to me son.”

Peter knows that voice. He clings to the words, trying to blink away the images consuming his mind. His eyes begin to focus.

“Please Peter, come back.”

Mr. Stark.

Tony.

Dad.

“Come on buddy.”

Peter blinks again to find the overcast sky above him with a few dark lines of naked tree branches reaching into his view. 

“Peter?”

Blinking again, Peter turns his head towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

The words are scratchy and quiet but the man’s gasp is enough for the boy to know he had been heard.

“Oh Peter, buddy, are you hurt? Do you hurt somewhere? Did someone do something to you?” he bombards the young boy.

“Easy Stark, he’s still not all the way with us,” a voice murmurs from the other side of Peter. 

The boy rolls his head to the side which takes so much effort.

He’s so tired.

Mr. Sam looks down at him, “hey Peter. I’m going to ask you some yes/no questions. Do you hurt somewhere?”

Peter takes a breath and focuses on his body. Toes, legs, waist, chest, arms, head.

His wrist still burns from **his** touch and his head hurts so much, but the rest of him feels fine.

The boy nods slowly.

“Ok, is it your lower body?”

Head shake.

“Upper body?”

Nod, “head,” Peter whispers. 

“Did someone hurt your head?” Tony hisses.

Peter shakes his head.

“Did you know the person who made you scream?” Sam asks gently.

**Him**

Peter doesn’t want to talk about **him**

He wants to forget about **him** again

Bury the memories deep into the back of his mind forever.

He wants to feel safe from **him** in mind and body.

Peter realizes his eyes are burning and his face hurts.

He’s crying. 

“Oh buddy,” Tony responds and rubs the tears away with his coat sleeve.

Peter reaches up to the man, he knows its baby-ish, but he just wants Tony. Tony will make him safe.

His new dad reads the action and scoops Peter into his arms, holding him close. 

Peter holds tight, as if letting go will cause him to float off into the memories he’s avoiding in his head.

“Tony!”

Peter turns a little, one eye peeking out of his father’s shoulder to see Mr. Steve, Mr. Bucky, Mr. Rhodey, and Mr. Clint come to a stop near them.

“Some other families down the way said they saw a blonde boy, late teens or early twenties, walk from this direction and leave in a car,” Mr. Bucky speaks up softly.

“I drew a quick sketch of what the people described him as,” Mr. Steve holds out his phone. 

It’s just a doodle on a phone. 

But as Tony brings the device close to him, Peter glances at the screen to see an image very similar to **his** looks. 

Peter’s body shakes as he tries to move away from the phone. 

Peter doesn’t want to see the picture. He doesn’t want to think about **him**.

“Let’s talk more later,” Mr. Sam speaks up, taking the phone away from Peter.

Peter pants and stops squirming as the offending device leaves his sight.

But he is crying again, the tears run freely and he feels the snot come out of his nose and get on Tony’s jacket.

But he doesn’t care.

He wants to go home now.

“I think we should go home and calm down, maybe talk about this later,” Sam’s voice says loudly.

Peter’s grateful, someone said what he wanted for him.

“Ok Undroos, let me set you down so I can stand up,” Tony pats Peter’s back.

Peter makes a noise in protest, locking his hands together behind the man’s back.

He heard grumbling and the adults talking but Peter focuses on gripping his anchor to reality tightly.

Only for his attention to shift as his body moves upward along with his father’s, gravity pulling on Peter’s legs to let him know Tony is standing.

Peter wraps his legs around his father tightly as the man shifts him, locking his ankles in place so that Peter can’t be put down.

Peter feels the bump of movements, but despite his tears dying down he refuses to look up from Tony’s neck where he is nestling his head. Peter focuses on listening to the breaths of air going down his father’s throat as they walk, listening to the rhythms of air.

He can hear the adults talking quietly but Peter doesn’t care. 

He wants to go home. 

Go home and hide in his closet to take a nap. 

Maybe even focus on some books or movies in attempt to drown out the old memories trying to capture his attention. 

“Tony!”

The voice of Peter’s new mother catches the boy’s ears.

“Not physically hurt,” Tony murmurs, “talk more later.”

Talk. 

Peter knows the adults are going to ask questions.

Teresa and Morgan are going to ask questions.

Knowing Tony and Pepper, they’ll call Doctor Sarah and she’ll ask questions. 

But he doesn’t want to talk. 

If he talks, his mom and dad will find out he’s dirty.

If he talks, his mom and dad will cry like Ben and May did the first time.

If he talks, Teresa and Morgan will find out their brother is broken and not a good role model. 

If he talks, there will be police asking questions again.

If he talks the media will somehow find out, because they always do, and the world will find out.

If he talks, the bad memories will get stronger.

If he _doesn’t_ talk none of these things will happen.

If he _doesn’t_ talk maybe everything will go back to normal tomorrow.

As Tony tries to settle Peter into a spot in the SUV, the boy burying himself into the man’s side instantly once the seatbelts are fastened, Peter makes a decision: 

He doesn’t want to talk any more.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter sits against the glass wall of the living room, watching puffs of snow fall slowly down onto the gray cityscape below. He’s wrapped up in a large plush blanket, clutching his knees to his chest as he tries to fade into the shadows the dimming sunlight causes. He can hear his sisters off somewhere else in the apartment, playing with an adult. Peter isn’t sure if its Happy or Rhodey or Natasha, he just remembers hearing his mom say someone was coming after they arrived home from the park. Peter didn’t stay to see who was arriving, he went straight for his shower, scrubbing his skin raw in an attempt to make the sensation of **his** hand on him go away. When Peter came back to the living room in sweats and dragging his favorite plush blanket, no one was in the room but he could hear voices elsewhere. That’s how Peter has come to be sitting against the window, watching the snow fall and occasionally hearing someone’s voice get louder elsewhere. 

Peter just sits watching the white puffs, pristine in color, float down to where they will become dirty by the city below.

Dirty like him.

“Peter.”

The voice is gentle but Peter still jerks hard in surprise, not hearing his mother come from wherever she was to his side. 

“Oh baby,” Pepper kneels beside Peter, “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m going to hug you, ok?”

Peter nods and leans towards his new mother, melting into her side.

“Peter do you want to go sit on the couch? Our windows are specially made by your father for the weather but it’s still chilly over here,” Pepper finally says. 

Peter just shrugs into her body, he doesn’t care where he sits, he’s just waiting for his parents to say its bedtime because he’s very done with the day. 

Pepper nudges and tugs him until they both are standing, her arms still holding him as she leads him to the couch where they sit down together. She begins to runs her fingers through Peter’s hair, the boy relaxing some under the gentle touch.

“Peter,” Pepper murmurs to him, “can you try answering some yes/no questions for me sweetie?”

Peter responds with a little shrug, burying himself into his blanket more.

“Was the person in the park someone you know?”

Hesitantly, Peter gives a little nod.

“Was the person someone who scares you?”

Peter nods again.

“Did the person in the park touch you Peter?”

Peter’s breath catches.

If he nods then his momma might find out. She might ask more questions and realize how dirty Peter is. But he doesn’t want to lie to his momma.

With a gasping sob, Peter buries his head into the blanket, pulling away from Pepper and hiding away again. 

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. We’ll take a break from the big questions. How about some little questions?” she asks while rubbing Peter’s back through the blanket. “Do you want grilled cheese for dinner sweetie?”

Peter shrugs his shoulders. 

“Do you want some soup?”

He shrugs again.

“Are you hungry Peter?”

There’s the question he was hoping she’d ask. Peter shakes his head. 

“Ok, well, do you want to watch a movie?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Do you want to go lay down in your room?”

Peter nods, glancing up with teary eyes at his momma.

“Ok sweetie, can I tuck you in?”

Peter nods and reaches for Pepper again, hugging his mother tightly. 

She helps him stand up and leads Peter down the hallway to his room. She doesn’t say anything, in fact she helps him, when he goes to his bed and buries himself under the covers to become a cocooned mass. 

Rather he hears her sit on the bed edge and feels her hand begin to run through his hair, the only part of him poking out of the covers. The silence is broken by a gentle humming, his momma quietly humming tunes that Peter finds comforting. 

He isn’t sure how long he’s been laying there when he hears his bedroom door rub against his carpet signally it has opened.

“He asleep,” Peter’s father asks softly.

“If not, he’ll be asleep soon,” Pepper whispers back between tunes, “did you finish the calls?”

“Doctor Sarah said she’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, that the soonest she can get back in town. She said just keep him grounded and not push him, help him feel safe with us and keep reaffirming our love for him until she can get here and talk to him.”

“Of course,” Pepper murmurs.

“Natasha agreed to stay in the guest room for the rest of the weekend so she can help with the girls.”

“How are the girls?”

“Doing fine. They keep asking if Peter’s going to be ok and if they can see him. Natasha has them making ‘get well’ cards for Peter.”

Peter rolls to his side, wanting to show the adults he’s still awake and wants them to stop talking. Peter just wants to sleep.

“Hey Underoos,” Tony leans around Pepper to stroke Peter’s face, “Momma helping you go to sleep?”

Peter nods, trying to blink back the tears filling his eyes.

He isn’t hurt.

Why are his eyes leaking?

He’s safe with Tony and Pepper.

Why are his eyes leaking?

“Aw buddy it’s ok,” Tony brushes an escaped tear away, “we’re right here Peter, we won’t let anything get you. You’re safe here buddy and we love you no matter what.”

Peter sniffs his snot back into his head and leans into Tony’s touch. 

“Go to sleep sweetie,” Pepper whispers as she resumes stroking his head, “you’ll feel better if you get some sleep.”

Peter nods and closes his eyes, letting the feeling of his parents’ touch lull him into the dark void of unawareness.

_“Hey Einstein,” Skip enters the living room with a smile, “your family are running behind, so you’ll have to stay for a few more hours ok?”_

_Peter glances up from his puzzle with a smile, “ok Skip.”_

_“How far have you gotten Einstein?”_

_Skip sits beside Peter, rubbing Peter’s back with a gentle smile._

_“I got all the outside pieces and the grass pieces done. I have to do the barn and the sky still,” Peter grins up at the teen._

_“Man you’re so smart Einstein,” Skip strokes Peter’s cheek, “you’ve gotten further than I ever had.”_

_Peter smiles proudly, “that’s because I’m special, right Skip?”_

_“That you are Einstein,” Skip squeezes Peter’s shoulders in a small side hug. “But you keep working on this puzzle bud and I’ll go get you a snack.”_

_Peter frowns, “you can help too.”_

_“Nah,” Skip ruffles Peter’s hair, “I’m not good a puzzles, they just frustrate me.”_

_Peter thinks for a moment before coming up with an idea._

_“Hey Skip,” Peter sits up smiles at the older boy, “if you don’t want to do the puzzle we can play something you like together. That’s what friends do right?”_

_The older boy’s eyes widen in surprise only for a weird smile to fill his face, “yeah we can do that. In fact there’s a big kids game we can play, I have the papers for the game in my room.”_

_“Let’s get them then!” Peter squeals._

_Skip stands up, sweeping Peter up into his arms and carrying the little boy on his hip, “ok Einstein.”_

_The pair go into the dark bedroom, Skip chuckling as he tosses Peter onto the large bed._

_“Ok Einstein, here we go,” Skip says as he drops some magazines onto the bed._

_“What are these?” Peter frowns as he picks one up. He flips it open to find boys and girls doing strange things in their bathing suits._

_Wait._

_The next page no one is wearing anything._

_Peter frowns and drops the magazine._

_“This is a friendship game,” Skip sits down and strokes Peter’s leg, “It’s called the Friendship Touch game. How it works is we take turns touching each other like the pictures in the magazine to show we trust each other and are best friends.”_

_“But,” Peter looks down at an open magazine, “I don’t like these pictures. It doesn’t look right.”_

_“That’s because you a little kid Einstein and this is a big kid’s game. Do you want to play a big kid’s game?”_

_Peter nods._

_“Ok then, lets play.”_

_Skip stands up and begins to pull at Peter’s pants, “I’ll go first and show you how this works.”_

_“But I don’t want my pants off Skip,” Peter protests._

_“Come on Einstein,” Skip grunts._

_“I—I don’t Skip, Skip I don’t want to,” Peter holds tight on his pants by the beltloops._

_“Come one Einstein, I thought we were friends.”_

_“W-we are,” Peter hiccups._

_“You said we could play my game because we are friends.”_

_“Y—yeah.”_

_“Well this is my game, come one Einstein let go.”_

_Slowly Peter lets go of his beltloops._

_“Good job Einstein,” Skip pulls the pants off, pushing Peter to lay down on the bed, “lets have fun.”_

_Peter then sees Skip’s smile change, his eyes look scary as he reaches towards Peter._

_The boy begins to cry, the teen’s hand making contact with Peter’s body._

_“No!_

“NO!!!”

Peter screams out and jerks painfully, his eyes snapping open into the darkness of the room.

“Peter!”

The bedroom door flies open, light spilling into the room and helping Peter see he’s in his new bedroom his new parents had given him. He isn’t in **that guy’s** room. 

“Peter,” Tony runs forward to the bed, “it’s ok buddy, it’s ok, daddy’s here.”

Tony reaches down towards Peter but the boy realizes something right that second:

His legs are wet.

Peter begins to cry as he pushes away from his father, tugging at his blankets in distress.

“Hey, hey,” Tony quickly stops the boy’s flailing movements with a warm hug, “its ok buddy.”

“N-no,” Peter gasps.

At that point Tony pulls back, mouth open to ask a questions but he seems to realize the problem when his nose wrinkles some.

Peter bursts into loud sobs.

“Oh Peter it’s ok,” Tony soothes the boy, “it happens to the best of us kiddo.” 

Peter doesn’t stop crying.

“Can I take you to the bathroom? I bed a hot shower will feel good buddy.” 

Peter reaches up like a baby for his father. The boy doesn’t care. He just wants to feel better. Feel clean.

The man scoops up Peter without a second thought to the cold urine covered pajamas, turning on the shower with one hand and plopping Peter on the counter, gently removing the pajamas of the boy.

Peter’s body shakes from cold and distress, Tony sees and wraps a towel around Peter while telling the boy to wait for a moment. 

Tony leaves only to return a few seconds later with Peter’s plastic stool the boy uses to sit on sometimes. Tony sets it in the shower and places Peter on the stool, disregarding his own pajamas getting wet. 

“You sit here in the shower buddy, here’s a washcloth for you to clean up with. I’m going to go take care of the bed,” Tony speaks gently and brushes a kiss onto Peter’s head before disappearing.

Peter scrubs hard at his skin, his pale peach color turning red with each pass of the fabric. 

Still not feeling clean enough, Peter cranks the heat on higher and despite his skin protesting the temperature, he sits under the downpour. 

Peter isn’t sure how long he is under the water; he knows it must be a while since the shower only turns off when his dad returns to do it himself. 

“Oh buddy,” Tony murmurs as he wraps Peter in a different big fluffy towel, helping the boy step out of the shower. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Tony towels Peter off and helps the boy step into his fresh pajamas. Tony even blows hot air with the hairdryer down Peter’s shirt occasionally when the man works on drying Peter’s wet hair. Peter offers a small smile at the man when that happens, Peter really enjoys the feeling. 

“Ok Underoos, lets get you back to bed,” Tony sets aside everything, picking Peter up with a grunt.

Peter holds tight, legs dangling down lifelessly. 

Tony bypasses Peter’s bed, moving towards the door. 

Peter whines as he glances at the bed.

“It’s dirty buddy, we gotta wait for the stuff to soak up the moisture. You’re going to come sleep with me and momma,” Tony informs the boy as they enter the hallway.

Peter’s breath hitches and he whines again.

Tony rubs the boy’s back, “its ok buddy. If you have another accident, well we’ll just clean that up too, your mom and I don’t mind. Heck Morgan has the record for four accidents in one night so far so I one or two is nothing.”

Peter rubs his face into Tony’s neck, tightening his hug on the man.

“Tony?”

Peter doesn’t look up but he hears his mom’s voice, they must be in the master bedroom now.

“Someone had a nightmare and had a little accident so he’s going to hang with us for a few hours until breakfast,” Tony replies as he gently lays Peter on the bed.

The boy lets go and allows Pepper to pull up beside her in the big bed.

“It’s ok sweetie,” she murmurs as she pulls on the blankets to cover Peter up, “this isn’t a big deal ok? Just a little deal with an easy little fix.”

Tony climbs in and sandwiches Peter between himself and Pepper, “it’s alright Peter,” Tony murmurs and rubs the boy’s arm. 

Peter wiggles down into the blankets, hiding his embarrassed face from his new parents.

“You’re alright Peter,” Pepper whispers as a hand rubs through Peter’s hair.

With pressure from his mother rubbing his hair and his father rubbing his body, Peter’s muscles begin to relax.

“Jarvis says this happened once before,” Tony whispers so quietly that Peter almost misses it.

“When?”

“Thursday night, Peter cleaned himself up and took care of everything that night.”

“Oh,” Pepper sighs, “we’ll have to keep reassuring him that this isn’t a problem for us, that we can help him at night.”

Peter whines.

He wants them to stop talking.

“Shhh Peter,” his momma scratches his scalp, “sleep baby, momma and daddy are right here. We’ll keep you safe sweetie.”

With tears still flowing down his cheeks, Peter falls into the darkness behind his eyelids.

He just wants it all to stop.

He wants to be fine again.

Maybe he’ll be fine if he wakes up again.

A do over.

Yeah, maybe he’ll feel better next time. A do over.

Hopefully.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter emerges from the dancing colors of his mind, images and dreams that don’t make sense and aren’t remembered once awake. 

Peter wiggles under a puffy comforter, pulling it close as he rolls away from the light pressing against his eyelids. 

Only he rolls into something warm and solid that is _not_ his wall his bed is against. 

A low chuckle fills Peter’s ears, a large hand rubbing Peter’s back gently. 

“Someone finally coming back to the land of the living?”

Rubbing his eyes, Peter opens them to find himself up against Tony’s leg. The man sits on top of the covers in sweatpants, tablet in hand and smiling down at Peter.

Peter wiggles closer and does his best to hug his dad’s legs through the blankets. Tony squeezes Peter’s shoulder gently before leaning down to press a kiss into Peter’s fluffy brown waves.

“Ready for breakfast Underoos?”

Peter can feel his stomach squeeze in excitement at the word, its been a long time since he last ate. Peter nods his head against his father’s legs.

“Alright then, lets get this day started,” Tony sets aside his tablet and begins to unwind the blankets from around Peter’s body. 

Peter can’t help the shiver the takes over his body when the fabric finally pulls away and the room’s air touches his skin. Tony just chuckles and wraps the throw blanket at the end of the bed around Peter’s shoulders, tugging on the blanket to make Peter’s body wiggle gently towards the edge of the bed.

Peter can’t help the smile creeping up on his lips at the movement.

“Ah there we go,” Tony laughs as Peter’s fee plop down onto the carpet with the boy finally standing. “Let’s go see what mom will make you for breakfast,” Tony gently guides Peter out of the room.

Peter’s little smile faltered when they passed his bedroom door. It sat open and Peter can smell the distinct odor of dirty baking soda wafting out. 

The night’s events crash down on Peter’s little mind swiftly with the scent. 

Peter’s body begins to shake with embarrassment. He wet the bed again. He had an accident and Tony cleaned him and it up. All because his brain couldn’t turn off those stupid memories when he slept. 

“Hey Pete, its ok,” Tony gently nudges the boy away from the door, “it’s ok. Let’s focus on breakfast alright? Think about what you want to eat buddy.”

Peter gnaws on his lip some, trying to do what his dad says. He tries to push away the thoughts and the memories trying to replay in his mind. He tries to think about food. He begins to list various breakfast foods in his mind one at a time in hopes something sounds right. 

Pancakes do sound tasty. 

“Peter!” 

Pepper reaches out and hugs the boy when Tony brings him into the kitchen. She rubs his back and presses a kiss into his hair gently. 

“Sleep ok?” She asks.

Peter nods.

“No nightmares once you were with me and your father?”

Peter shakes his head.

“Good,” she smiles, “are you feeling hungry?”

Peter nods.

“What would you like me to get you?” 

Peter chews on his lip again, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

He wants to say pancakes.

But he doesn’t want to talk.

He doesn’t want to hear his own voice.

If he talks he might spill everything. He might make things bad for his new family. 

They’ll find out he’s dirty.

That he’s broken.

No he shouldn’t talk.

He looks up at his parents, the pair glancing between each other nervously.

“Ok,” Tony breathes out slowly, “do you feel like being quiet today buddy?”

Peter nods.

“Alright,” the man shifts his stance with a worried look.

“How about this,” Pepper cuts in before Tony can speak more, “do you want eggs Peter?”

The boy shakes his head.

“How about cereal?” she continues

The game goes on for a minute until she hits pancakes and Peter is nodding rapidly. Pepper goes about making breakfast while Tony tucks Peter into the chair at the table. At this point Peter glances around and realizes he can’t see or hear his sisters?

Did Tony and Pepper know that he’s broken? Did they send the girls away to keep them clean?

“Ah, the girls are out right now,” Tony sees Peter looking around, “the girls wanted to visit with Lila again before she goes back home to the farm. Natasha took them over to the hotel to hang out together since we wanted you to have a chance to sleep in after missing some sleep last night.”

Peter glances at the clock to see its actually eleven in the morning, the minutes moving towards noon.

“The girls will be back later in the afternoon in time for dinner,” Tony supplies.

Pepper produces pancakes and fruit, the adults tucking into the food claiming its early lunch for them. 

“Peter,” Pepper breaks the quiet eating, “sweetie we mentioned this yesterday but Doctor Sarah will be stopping by in an hour. You don’t have to change or anything if you don’t want, but we do want you to sit with her for a little bit.”

“And we can join you too if you want,” Tony adds, “and if you don’t want to talk, maybe just listen then?” 

Peter chews on his fork, shrugs, and continues to eat without looking at the adults.

And that’s how Peter ends up on the couch while his parents clean up the kitchen, the TV playing Disney films that Peter barely acknowledges, it’s all white noise to him while his mind is a war zone.

His parents called Doctor Sarah. She’ll be arriving any minute. Between Doctor Sarah and his parents, well he knows keeping his secret silent will be hard. But he doesn’t want to say it, he doesn’t want to ruin things. His life has been good. Sure it’s not been perfect since joining the Starks but its been good. If they find out they’ll be crying like his family did when they found out. There will be arguing just like his family argued after it happened. They’ll treat him like he can’t do anything himself, changing topics and filtering everything Peter sees or hears just like his family did before. He knows it was to help him, but that year was so different and strange and uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to feel that again with his new family. 

And if he says it out loud his secret will eventually end up in the magazines, people will see it and—and—Peter just imagines the chaos the family will get from that. 

The boy moans to himself quietly and hides his head in the blanket. His head is starting to hurt.

“Peter,” Pepper’s soft voice cuts through the thoughts, “Doctor Sarah is coming up right now.”

Peter doesn’t move or nod, he just sits curled up in a ball in the blanket as Pepper turns the TV onto soft ocean sounds, the couch shifting as she sits beside him. She hugs him close, rubbing his body through the blanket until the voices of Tony and Doctor Sarah can be heard as the pair enter the apartment and move towards the living room.

“Hmmm I thought I was going to visit my favorite little man but he seems to be missing,” Doctor Sarah says dramatically.

“I swore I left Peter here a moment ago,” Tony joins in.

Pepper squeezes Peter’s shoulder through the blanket as the little boy lifts his head slowly from the fabric.

“There’s my friend,” Doctor Sarah smiles as she kneels before Peter.

“Peter,” Tony gently calls to the boy, “would you like to go up and show Doctor Sarah the cool playroom we have? That way you don’t have to worry about mom and me bugging you two?”

Peter doesn’t respond, rather he stands and slowly walks up to the playroom with Doctor Sarah following slowly. Peter feels it’s a good idea, just in case something slips out, his parents won’t have to hear about the dirty boy they adopted. 

“Oh wow,” Doctor Sarah gasps, “this is a great playroom, better than ours at the office for sure.”

Peter just nods.

The room is a fun pastel yellow color with bright rugs on the gray carpet. There are some playsets along one wall that Teresa and Morgan love playing pretend with. A small tent and tunnels sit along the long far wall where the kids can play inside or just hang out. The wall near the door has bins of legos and building toys as well as special lego table to play on. There’s cubbies of toys and weighted blankets and sensory items along the last wall as well as a moon sand table. 

But Peter goes for his favorite item in the room. 

Hanging in the center is a hammock swing, the tear drop fabric filled with pillows and blankets. 

Peter climbs inside it, drawing his legs up and becoming a blanket ball again.

“Peter, is it ok if I give you a gentle push?” Doctor Sarah asks.

Peter nods.

The doctor pushes Peter gently back and forth, pulling up a stool for herself to sit on after a few seconds. 

There is a few moments of silence before the doctor speaks up again, “Peter do you know why I came over today?”

Peter nods then shrugs.

“Ok, well how about I just say it again just in case. You dad called me because you met someone who scared you yesterday. He and your mom are a little worried about you and want to help you the best they can. They said that if you don’t feel comfortable sharing thing with them, you can share things with me.”

Peter shrugs and inspects the edge of the blanket. 

“You know,” she continues, “when I was little I had an uncle who shouted a lot and said mean words. It scared me and hurt my feelings. I was about your age when my uncle moved far away and I didn’t have to hear him anymore. But I still flinched and cried whenever someone was to loud, it would make me remember my uncle even though I was safe and he couldn’t do that anymore.” 

There is more silence as the doctor pushes Peter gently back and forth.

“How about we play the would you rather game?” she suggests.

Peter glances up from the blanket with a raised eyebrow hoping it conveyed his confusion at never hearing the game before.

“It’s an easy game,” the doctor catches his confusion, “we say would you rather and then pick two options to offer, they can be silly options or serious options or well anything. And,” she reaches into the bag she had set nearby, “since you’re feeling shy today here’s a pen and a notepad so you can write down your would you rather statements.”

The doctor stops the swing and offers the items. 

Peter accepts them. 

“Ok I’ll start. Would you rather,” she pauses with a thinking face, “ah! Would you rather take a bath in spaghetti noodles or swim in lime flavored jello?”

Peter makes a face. Both options sound gross.

“Well if you don’t like that would you rather statement then you should come up with a better one.”

Peter writes _‘noodles’_ and shows it to the doctor, putting the pad of paper down to write his statement. He holds it up when he’s done and she reads it out loud.

“Ah, ‘would you rather take stairs two by two all week or skip to every door?’ well that’s a tricky one too. I would have to say I’d take the stairs two by two since I don’t have many stairs to use during the week. Ok my turn. Would you rather have pizza for breakfast or French toast for dinner?”

Peter writes out _‘french toast’_. 

“I agree with that choice,” the doctor nods.

Peter writes out his question for the doctor to read.

“Let’s see, ‘would you rather ice fishing or ice skating’. Well definitely ice skating,” the doctor grins, “have you gone ice skating before?”

Peter nods. He writes _‘yesterday’_ on the pad.

“Oh that sounds fun. Did you go with your family?”

_‘and dad’s friends’_ Peter jots down.

“Did you ice skate the whole time or do other things too?”

_‘we made snowmen too,’_ Peter writes.

“Sounds fun. Who had the bigger snowman?”

Peter pauses, pen hoovering above the paper. He decides to write, _‘we didn’t finish because I ruined things’_. 

“Now Peter, that can’t be true,” Doctor Sarah says kindly, “I’m sure you didn’t ruin anything.”

_‘Yes I did’_ Peter writes getting frustrated, _‘he showed up and—’_

Peter pauses staring at the notepad.

He almost wrote about **him**. Peter almost let something slip. 

Peter rips the paper off the pad quickly, ripping it all into tiny shreds. 

“Peter, Peter!” Doctor Sarah catches the swing and gently pushes it back and forth, “calm down Peter. Breathe with me,” she begins to do breathing counts. 

Peter releases the paper pieces, head falling back as he follows the breathing counts. 

“That’s it. Let’s calm down for a moment. I can see there is something you want to say but saying it is stressing you out. Lets just take a little moment to calm down.”

She continues to do breathing counts, softly and quietly, while swinging Peter rhythmically back and forth. The motion and her continual counting sooths Peter’s nerves, his breathing relaxing some.

“That’s it,” she murmurs, “remember Peter, anything you say to me is safe. I won’t share what we talk about with anyone but your parents and remember, I only share the big deals with your parents because the little deals are for us to figure out.”

Peter nods but still doesn’t open his mouth, rather he stares at the ceiling of the room trying to blink away tears.

“I’m serious Peter,” Doctor Sarah says again, “just you and me. If what you want to say is a big deal we can tell your parents together or I can tell them for you.”

Peter begins to shake his leg, causing the rocking to become unsteady and less rhythmic. 

“The magazines won’t find out?” Peter whispers

“What you say won’t go in the magazines Peter, you parents wouldn’t let it.”

“HE said he’d tell the magazines my secret,” Peter feels the tears coming down his face, “and—and those people…they will…they will...” Peter cuts off with a gasp for air. 

“This person threatened you yesterday Peter?”

Peter clamps a hand over his mouth but nods, sobs muffled behind his flesh. 

The doctor stops the swing, it still shakes with Peter’s leg movements but its still enough for him to be drawn to looking at the woman’s face.

“Whatever that man said,” she says with gentle firmness, “whatever he threatened you with, your parents won’t allow it. They love you too much to let someone hurt you. He said something about telling the media? Your parents will stop him before he has the chance. Your parents are powerful Peter, let them protect you like parents are supposed to do.”

At this point Peter’s tears flow freely as he gasps for air around the snotty sniffles. 

“Peter I want to have your parents come and join us, I want you to hear the words, hear them say what I said and more.”

Peter just shrugs as he sniffs and uses the blanket to clean his tears.

“Jarvis?” 

“Already done doctor,” the British voice fills the room softly. 

The woman gently begins to push Peter rhythmically again, continuing to do breathing counts like before.

The door softly opens after a couple minutes, Tony and Pepper enter cautiously before taking stools to sit beside the doctor to face Peter. Peter is now buried beneath the blanket again, with his hair being the only thing showing but his jerky movements a sign he’s still crying. 

“Peter would you like to talk to your parents or can I tell them about this big deal moment?”

Peter points at Doctor Sarah from the blanket. 

“So yesterday Peter ran into a person who knows something. Something Peter’s been keeping secret. This person threatened Peter, saying he would tell the media Peter’s secret,” Doctor Sarah quietly informs the two adults. “I told Peter that you two love him and will protect him from that happening.”

“Of course!” Pepper gasps.

“We’d do anything for Peter and the girls,” Tony responds.

There’s some silence, Peter’s under the blanket so he doesn’t see Doctor Sarah write a quick note on the pad of paper to the two adults. Both nod and move towards Peter.

“Peter,” Pepper starts, “you father and I love you so much. We want to protect you and take care of you forever—”

“Even if you want us to leave you alone when you grow up,” Tony adds with a chuckle.

“Can you let us protect and take care of you Peter?” Pepper asks.

Peter doesn’t move under the blanket but leans forward slightly towards the voice of his mother.

“Peter no matter what this man knows or says he knows, we won’t love you any less. I made a lot of big mistakes growing up Peter, made a lot of bad choices and did bad things. But despite all that your mom never gave up on me. Uncle Happy never gave up on me. Uncle Rhodey never gave up on me. They all loved me and with their love I got better. My past isn’t pretty, you probably know from the media, but no one stopped loving me because of it. We won’t stop loving you or love you less no matter what your secret is,” Tony finishes.

“But,” Peter lifts his head and looks towards the adults, “he’ll tell them. He’ll tell them and people will say bad things and—and ruin your—your reputation.”

“Peter,” Tony firmly gets the boy’s attention, “I’ve done so much crap growing up that nothing you do will ruin the Stark name.”

“I’ll ruin the girls,” Peter counters quietly.

“Can you tell me why you think you’ll ruin your sisters?” Doctor Sarah probes.

“Because,” Peter takes a breath, tears flowing again, “I’m dirty.” 

“No Peter,” Pepper reaches out, “you’re not dirty. You’re our son, our wonderful and smart son.”

“No!” Peter shouts, “No I’m dirty and broken! He’ll tell everyone I’m dirty and broken! He’ll tell them and everyone will treat me differently again!”

“Peter,” Doctor Sarah interrupts the boy’s rant, “how about you tell us from the beginning? Tell us what makes you think you’re dirty and broken? Give us the chance to decide our feelings about this instead of assuming we will think you’re dirty and broken?”  


Peter pauses for a second.

He did assume.

They don’t know everything and he assumed they’d agree that he’s dirty and broken.

But they don’t know the whole story.

If they know the whole story, then they’ll see. 

They’ll see he’s dirty and broken.

Opening his mouth slowly, Peter takes a deep breath

“I—I thought he was my friend,” Peter begins quietly.


	9. Chapter 9

Peter twists the blanket in his fingers. 

There’s no going back.

The adults are waiting to hear his story.

But Peter doesn’t know where to start, what to say, what not to say.

He feels his eyes burn with tears again.

“Peter,” Doctor Sarah reaches out and steadies the swing, “you can start with whatever comes to your head first. Just let the words out and we’ll make sense of them. Just let it all out Peter.”

Peter nods.

“I thought he was my friend,” Peter begins again, “he was nice at first. Other kids weren’t nice to me, but he was older and he was so nice, I felt special.”

Peter pauses, rocking his body in the swing setting it in erratic movements.

“Deep breath Peter,” Doctor Sarah speaks up as she adjusts the swing’s movements into a rhythmic back and forth. 

“He would come over and watch Teresa and me while Aunt May and Uncle Ben were busy,” Peter continues quietly, “he was so nice. He would give me special snacks he bought on his way home from school. During Teresa’s naptime he would let me pick a movie and watch with me. He even taught me big kid science.”  
Peter pauses. He remembers, those were happy moments. How could someone so nice be so…well…not nice?

“Was he always nice or did something change?” Doctor Sarah asks soft.

“He started to be different,” Peter answer, “He would give me the special snacks only if I gave him a kiss on the cheek like I kiss Aunt May. He would put me on his lap during movie time even if I didn’t want to. I liked learning about DNA but he started teaching other human body science. I didn’t like that.”

“Did you tell him you didn’t like it?” Doctor Sarah asks.

Peter nods, “he said friends touch each other all the time. When I didn’t want to learn something new or do something he would sometimes say I was acting like a baby and needed to act like a big kid.”

“But you were a baby Peter,” Pepper gasps.

“No!” Peter snaps, “I was a big kid. I finished first grade, I was a big kid.”

There was a sharp inhale by all the adults at that. Peter ignores it in favor for picking at a string that had come loose on the blanket. 

“Did this boy do things that made you feel uncomfortable? Things that made your tummy twist maybe?” Doctor Sarah asks.

Peter nods, “he started touching me more. More then Aunt May or Uncle Ben touched me. It didn’t feel right, he said friends touch but it didn’t feel right.”

Doctor Sarah nods, “He should have listened when you told him to not touch you like that.”

“But I didn’t!” Peter moans, “If I told him ‘no’ or ‘stop’ maybe he wouldn’t—maybe it—maybe—” Peter struggled with his breathing as he tried to find the words for the dark memories creeping up in his mind, “maybe he wouldn’t have shown me those pictures and made me play that game.”

“What game Peter,” Tony asks darkly.

“The big kids game,” Peter whispers, “the one where we copy the magazine pictures. It hurt so much and—and—and—” Peter wails loudly.

Pepper stands and quickly pulls him out of the swing, holding the sobbing child in her arms on the floor. Peter latches on, burying his face into her soft sweater and hugging her tightly because he knows he’s safe in her arms. 

“My sweet boy,” Pepper murmurs over his sobs, rubbing his back gently.

“He said I was dirty,” Peter sobs, “he said adults don’t love dirty kids. That I’ll ruin other kids because I’m dirty. He said he’ll always love me even if I’m dirty.”

“Peter! You’re not dirty,” Pepper firmly replies, “what that monster did to you does not make you dirty, he’s the dirty one not you.”

Peter lets out a half sob half laugh as snot drips from his face, “Doctor T said that too.”

“Well whoever this Doctor T is, he’s right.” Pepper nods 

“He’s like Doctor Sarah,” Peter answers, “I saw him when I was little.”

“I’m glad your aunt and uncle went and got you help,” Pepper murmurs to him. 

“Peter,” Doctor Sarah draws the boy’s attention, waiting for him to look her way from his mother’s embrace, “I know doctor T may have said this but I’m going to say it again. You’re not dirty. That boy was not a nice friend. He did nice things so you’d feel comfortable around him. He touched you a lot so you’d get used to it and not fight him. None of that was your fault, he hurt you but you’re not dirty.”

“And you’re not going to ruin this family or your sisters,” Pepper adds, “what that monster did to you will not make us love you any less.”

“Even if I keep screaming at night and wetting the bed?” Peter quietly asks, “the foster families couldn’t love me because of that.”

“Because they weren’t meant to be your families,” Pepper firmly replies, “your father and I will always love you even if we have to buy a new mattress for you every week.”

“Besides,” Tony finally speaks up after sitting silently the whole time, “I’m a billionaire who can afford to buy new mattresses for my son every week, so don’t worry.” He strokes Peter’s hair as the little boy turns to face his father, “and you aren’t the only one who screams at night. Sometimes I have bad nights too and you know what?”

“What?” Peter asks meekly 

“Your mom still loves me and hasn’t left me yet,” the man leans closer, “so you screaming at night won’t scare us off either.”

“Now Peter,” Doctor Sarah gathers everyone’s attention, “you told your mom and dad why you think you’re dirty. They have decided that you’re not dirty and that they still love you no matter what. Does this make you feel a little better?”

Peter shrugs, “I guess so.”

“Peter,” Tony leans forward again and runs his fingers through Peter’s hair gently, “yesterday at the park, you ran into the person who hurt you when you were little?”

Peter nods against Tony’s hand, “he said—he said—that I have to come play with him again. That he’ll be my babysitter again.”

Peter feels his mother tense under him, “well I can promise you that will never happen. Only our friends and your father’s coworkers are allowed to watch you kids and you’ve met them all.”

“But if I don’t play with him,” Peter protests loudly, “he’ll tell the magazines I’m dirty and broken. The people will say I’m ruining the Stark family.”

“You are not broken,” Tony snaps.

Peter winces and hides in his mother’s shoulder.

“Oh Underoos, I’m sorry,” the man gently apologizes, “I’m not mad at you. That evil person who hurt you is making me mad. I’m mad that he hurt you. I’m mad that he found you again and is trying to hurt you again. I’m not mad at you.”

Peter turns to look at his father from his mother’s lap, “even if I’m broken?”

“You’re not broken Peter,” Pepper hushes him.

“Yes I am,” Peter snaps, “I have scary dreams. I scream at night. Sometimes people scare me. Sometimes I just want to stop talking. I wet the bed even though I’m eleven! Skip knows these things and will tell everyone!”

“Skip!?” Tony hisses.

Peter quickly turns away to hide his face against his mother’s shoulder again.

“Peter,” Pepper gently plays with his hair, “your dad has scary dreams, does that mean he’s broken?”

“No,” he whispers into her sweater.

“Sometimes Teresa gets scared of new people at school, does that mean she’s broken?”

“No.”

“Sometimes I will not talk to people for a day because I’m feeling upset, does that mean I’m broken?”

“No.”

“Sometimes Morgan wets the bed, does that mean she’s broken?”

“No but she’s a little kid mamma,” Peter lifts his head to protest with a frown.

“There are tons of other kids out there in the world who wet the bed at your age, it says on the internet that it’s normal,” Pepper assures him.

“Really?” Peter makes a face, “the foster families said it wasn’t normal and put me in diapers.”

“What?” Tony snaps.

Pepper shoots the man a glare then turns back to Peter, “they were wrong. If the looked on the internet they’d see the truth on the medical sites or if they talked to a doctor the doctor would say the same thing. And Peter,” she makes sure the boy is making eye contact with her, “we will not put you in diapers. There are other options and ideas we can try instead.”

“Really?” Peter felt a weight lift off his tiny body. The diaper worry had been floating in the back of his mind.

“Really, really,” Tony reaches out. 

Peter climbs into his father’s lap, finding comfort in the man’s strong but gentle embrace.

“We love you Peter, no matter what. You were hurt Peter, you are not broken or dirty. You will not ruin our family, you’ve made it so much better since becoming our son and we wouldn’t trade you for anything. What that guy said about the media? Your mother and I will make sure what he knows will never be found out by the media.”

“You’ll stop Skip?” Peter leans back with a look of hope.

“I will make sure this Skip person won’t ever have a chance to hurt you or any other child ever again.” Tony then makes a face, “and who names their kid Skip? Such a weird name. Was his dad’s name Jump?”

Peter can’t help the tired giggle escape from his mouth, “no daddy, Skip’s his nickname. He’s Skip and I was Einstein.”

Tony makes another face, “you’re not an Einstein, definitely not. I’ve made you better nicknames then that.”

“I don’t even know what Underoos means,” Peter pouts.

The adults gently laugh at his statement, the tension lessening in the atmosphere at Tony’s attempts to lighten the moment. 

“Well is Skip any better than his real name?” Tony continues, “eww does he have a weird name like Herbert?”

Peter giggles again at the silly name, “No he has a regular name. It’s Steven. Steven Westcott. A regular name just like mine.”

Tony hums, “yes a very average name. But your name is so much better.”

“That’s because I’m your kid,” Peter lets himself smile.

“That’s right buddy, you’re my kid and I won’t let anyone hurt you if I can help it,” Tony hugs Peter again. 

“Well Peter,” Doctor Sarah speaks up, “you had some big feelings just now. How about a relaxing break? Maybe your parents can get you your favorite snack or you can have TV time or something special to help you feel better?”

Peter glances at the doctor then back at his parents while gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Whatever you want sweetie,” his mother smiles, “we won’t judge you.”

“Then,” he hesitates, “then can I have cuddles on the couch? I feel sleepy.”

“Of course sweetie,” Pepper smiles, “want to walk down or do you want daddy to carry you?”

“I can walk,” Peter responds, getting out is father’s lap.

“Ok then,” Pepper stands up too, “how about you surprise daddy and I by picking the movie in secret while I walk Doctor Sarah to the front door and daddy gets the snacks.”

“Ok,” Peter nods and gathers his blanket out of the swing, dragging the fabric out of the room, “come on daddy!”

“I’m coming kiddo, I’m not as quick as you buddy.”

The man follows after Peter once he gives a simple ‘Jarvis you know what to do’ command. 

Peter wonders what Jarvis is to do but is distracted by his father, “so kiddo should we have popcorn or cookies or ice cream for a snack?”

“Let’s do cookies!” Peter nods, “we need to save the popcorn and ice cream for family movie nights.”

“Good point Underoos, I’ll go get them.”

Peter flops onto the couch in his blanket, flipping through movie options.

He hears his mom and Doctor Sarah murmuring to each other as they pass by, the pair pausing for Doctor Sarah to say goodbye.

Peter waves as he has a rather big yawn at that moment. 

The beginning credits begin to play to the Disney film Peter picked, but finds his eyelids feeling rather heavy.

His father brings over cookies, tucking Peter against his side as he offers one to the boy. 

Peter barely finishes as the title sequence begins to play. 

Curling into his father’s warm body, Peter decides to rest his eyes until his favorite scene pops on.

That’s all.

Just rest his eyes. 

As darkness begins to pull Peter’s mind away, he hears Jarvis off in the distance.

“Info on Steven ‘Skip’ Westcott is being sent to your tablet sir.”

“Good job Jarvis,” his father responds.

Peter thinks he should stop resting his eyes.

But his dad begins to play with Peter’s hair, causing the boy to fall into the darkness of sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience everyone....due to the recent virus and quarantine situation I had to deal with the issue of my employment status.
> 
> All is well for now so onward I shall write.  
> ......................................................................................................................

**Tony**

Tony felt the weight increase against his side, a sign that Peter was completely asleep and gone to the world. Tony gently starts to replace his arm with a couch pillow, trying to move the boy without waking him. Peter has been through enough emotional upheaval in a few hours that Tony hopes his son will sleep till dinner.  


That and he didn’t want Peter around while he moved forward with his planning. The boy didn’t need any more stressful memories. 

Once he manages to wiggle free, Peter wrapping onto the pillow, he covers the boy up with another blanket since the one he has is wrapped solely around his waist. 

“Going somewhere?”

Pepper asks quietly as she slips up beside her husband to look at the sleeping child.

“You know me Pepper,” Tony whispers.

“Yes,” she wraps an arm around him, “you’ll take on the world if it means protecting your loved ones.”

“And avenging them,” he adds.

“Just don’t break any laws,” she pleads, “the last thing Peter or the girls need is a media circus pointing fingers at you or the team supposedly covering illegal activities.”

Tony sighs and steps away, moving towards the kitchen, “I want to hurt him Pepper. I want to hurt him as badly as he hurt Peter and any other kid out there he’s touched.”

“I know honey,” Pepper begins to brew some tea, “but taking out another person wouldn’t solve this. Peter would eventually find out and he’s to sweet to not feel responsible for that.”

Tony groans and puts his head in his hands.

Pepper moves over to her husband, rubbing his shoulders gently.

“Happy, Scott, and Laura are taking the girls to that new jump place and will be back around five for dinner. Natasha is on her way here with some of the others so why don’t you go down stairs to the office and talk it out. I’m sure there are things you can do without killing or maiming this guy.”

“What will you do?”

“I’m going to have a nice chat with Peter’s social worker because there was nothing in his file about what that Skip guy did to him and if his ‘behavioral outbursts’ that the file says he had, well if it’s in relation to the incident then this talk might last a little longer.”

“Try not to make the social worker cry,” Tony chuckles as he kisses Peppers hand.

“Try not to commit anything super illegal,” she responds with a smile.

“So blackmail and crushing his future in almost any industry is up for grabs?”

Pepper doesn’t say anything, but she smiles as she gathers up her phone and tablet, “I’m going to make the calls from the kitchen so I’ll be able to keep an eye on Peter. You better get going if you want to get done in time for dinner dear.”

Taking the prompt, Tony leaves the living area, Jarvis bringing the elevator down a few floors where is lab and meeting rooms are.

Someday he wants to bring Peter down to the lab, the boy has an eye for science and Tony can only dream of what the boy could come up with given the right tools.

But right now he bypasses the glass area, aiming for the boring silver door opposite of the lab. Entering the room Tony is greeted by Rhodey sitting at the table reading a magazine. The man had been staying in a lower floor of the tower since the day before the park incident making him first to arrive after the callout was sent.

“So,” Rhodey eyes his friend, “I take it the callout to assemble has to do with the other day?”

With a sigh, Tony drops into the chair heavily, “yes.”

“That bad?” Rhodey frowns.

“Worse,” Tony moans, “he’s such a good kid platypus, it isn’t fair how many bad things have happened to him before he even reaches his teen years.”

“Sounds like a story here that I haven’t heard,” Rhodey replies.

“And I’m only going to say it once so let’s wait for the others,” Tony rests his head on the chair rest. 

Tony misses the concerned look that Rhodey shoots him as well as the man sending a text to tell the others to hurry up. No Tony sits thinking to himself how he can help the child upstairs, his son and the boy who looks to him for protection and care. How Tony will need to look up reading material on parenting a child with not only death as a trauma but now assault too. 

“Got here as fast as we could, are we the first?”

In the open doorway stands Clint, but that lasts only seconds before the blonde stumbles to the table after being pushed out of the way.

“You’re blocking the doorway,” Bucky grunts as he plops down at the table.

“You didn’t need to push,” Clint sighs and flops into a chair while putting his feet up on the table.

“You have kids Clint,” Steve sighs, “I doubt Laura lets you treat tables like that.”

“And that’s the point,” Clint retorts, “I can do it here because I can’t at home.”

As Steve sits beside Bucky, Sam walks in shaking his head at the conversation, “not sure about that logic.”

“I left Loki at home,” Thor cuts in as he flops a pile of snacks on the table when sitting down, “I can call him if we need his help.”

Tony shakes his head, going back to staring at the ceiling “I’m barely containing myself, we won’t be able to stop Loki if he finds out.”

The new occupants become quiet and glance at Tony with worry.

“Ok Tony,” Natasha walks in with Bruce, closing the door behind themselves. Bruce sits but Natasha stands at the end of the table, “how bad are things?”

Tony avoids the question with practiced ease, “I see we’re all here, why don’t you sit down Natasha. Thor lets bust open those peanut butter cookies I see.”

“Tony,” Bruce murmurs, “just tell us.”

Taking a deep breath, Tony squeezes his hands together one last time before glancing up at his team.

No his friends.

His family.

“So as you all know, Saturday Peter had a run in with a stranger who caused him to have a bad reaction. Pepper and I are still unsure if Peter was disassociating or having flashbacks, currently our money is on flashback given what happened later that night.”

“What happened later that night?” Sam interrupts. 

“Peter had a—” Tony searches for a word, “I would say nightmare but it was more like a flashback when he was sleeping. Anyways, it was, bad to say the least. A few hours ago the family therapist arrived to talk to Peter as well as give Pepper and me some guidance on what we should do going forward to help him. During this time the therapist was able to get Peter to open up and reveal the situation.”

Tony pauses, taking in the looks of concern on everyone’s faces. He tries to find words in his head that will make what he says next less painful for himself and them.

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it Stark,” Bucky speaks up, “we all have some guesses as to the source of everything.”

Tony nods, “I know. Its just,” Tony an unsteady breath.

“Its your kid,” Clint speaks up, “and you feel like the bad things your kid experienced is because you failed as a dad and talking about it makes you feel worse.”

Tony offers the man a sad smile, “hit the bullseye again Clint.”

“Tony,” Sam speaks up, “was Peter—abused? I mean before you and Pepper got him?”

Tony nods, “just found out when Peter was barely out of first grade he had a babysitter who—well—he abused Peter. Sexually abused Peter. In fact the way he described the situation the monster was trying to groom Peter first but got impatient.”

There is a sharp inhale from everyone in the room. But Tony plows on, he knows if he stops he’ll not be able to say the rest.

“The sicko made a reappearance on Saturday at the park. The guy threatened Peter, saying he’d tell the media Peter’s secrets if Peter doesn’t agree to start up—do—you know—again.”

“You were correct friend Tony,” Thor speaks darkly, “it is good my brother isn’t here but that doesn’t mean we will not avenge your son.”

“Give me a name Tony,” Natasha simply.

“Clint and I will have your back Nat, no one will know,” Bucky snaps. 

“We can’t go killing a twenty one year old college kid,” Tony sighs, “I told Pepper we wouldn’t cause trouble with murder.” 

“So you know who he is?” Rhodey comments.

Tony nods, “Jarvis?”

The tabletop lights up blue and see-through holographic images hoover above the table from the lights and sensors in the tabletop. 

“Meet Steven ‘Skip’ Westcott,” Tony waves at the picture of the young adult. “Lived in the same apartment as Ben and May Parker until he was sent to juvie, and for some reason beyond even god’s knowledge, was released at eighteen rather than be transferred to adult prison. I’m thinking it might be because of his biological father—”

“Who’s his bio dad?” Clint leans forward.

“Skip was raised by his unmarried mother but evidence shows that Skip is the son of Patrick McQueen-“

“The guy trying to get into congress?” Rhodey looks at Tony in surprise, “the government did a full background on him, his present wife, and current kids. We didn’t find anything about at that time.”

“Well,” Natasha points and moves some holo images, “it looks like his name is on the birth certificate, there’s some photos of him visiting Westcott as a kid, and this list of info,” she points to Jarvis’ recon on accounts, “is an account under McQueen’s mother-in-law, who died years ago mind you, that paid for Westcott’s bail and is the address for the plea paperwork for early release and sealing of Westcott’s records.”

“My word,” Rhodey leans in, “if this gets out McQueen will be done for.”

“Probably why it hasn’t gotten out,” Bucky smirks.

Tony glances over to see Sam and Bruce consulting the medical files from Peter’s history of the event as well as the police reports. The three assassins discuss what they can do without killing Westcott. Rhodey is now texting, Tony assumes, his contacts in D.C. But Thor and Steve stare at one particular screen: an image of Westcott.

“Thoughts Thunder man and Mr. Morals?” Tony prompts.

Steve shakes his head, “I’m so sorry Tony. No wonder Peter gets nervous when I’m around. Same first name, blonde hair, blue eyes….I’ve been torturing Peter all this time without even realizing it.”

“I too can see why Peter has been keeping a distance from me as well,” Thor mutters as he inhales three cookies in one grab.

“Pepper spoke to our therapist about this, Doctor Sarah said we shouldn’t cut contact with every blonde hair blue eyed man but she is emailing us some suggestions and strategies on helping Peter when he struggles to associate with people who trigger memories,” Tony assures the two men. “She said that if we help him feel safe when around such people, he’ll be able to meet people like that with less trigger episodes later in life.”

Steve gives him an approving look, “you really make a good dad Tony.”

“If I was a good dad I would have seen Peter struggling before he broke down,” Tony moans and puts his head in his hands.

“No your not Tones,” Rhodey chides his best friend, “you’re a great dad.”

“Besides,” Sam speaks up, “its known that kids with trauma will often not show symptoms of their trauma until they feel safe enough for their minds to process everything. From what you’ve told us Peter had to survive and adapt every time something happened in his life, now that he’s in a safe and stable environment his mind is no longer in adapt and survive mode so it’s processing things he’s been through. Plus traumas do that, leave then come back, you should know that since you’ve had ups and downs with your anxiety.”

At this Tony looks up with a sudden thought, “oh gawd, Bruce do I need to put my baby on meds?”

Both Bruce and Sam give each other a look before Bruce responds, “that’s up to Peter’s therapist. If he is struggling with daily living because of the effects of these traumas then perhaps. But in my opinion the interaction is what triggered this, so perhaps with therapy and time he’ll be alright again. But then I’m not that kind of a doctor.”

“Tony,” Natasha catches the man’s attention, “what do you want us to do?”

Tony takes a deep breath, “I want Westcott off the streets and back in jail, especially how much inmates love people who hurt children.”

“Legally,” Rhodey speaks up, “we could challenge the ruling since its still within ten years, especially since that sicko approached Peter again.”

“I don’t want to drag Peter through witnessing again,” Tony shakes his head, “putting him in front of strangers to talk about the incident isn’t going to help him, especially since everything he has to say was already said in those previous reports and trial.”

“You sure we can’t just kill him,” Bucky mutters.

“Don’t tempt me,” Tony groans.

“What if evidence appears of him stalking Peter, hoarding child pornography, his juvie record just happens to get unsealed, and his name happens to get on the sexual predator list? With the police looking into him for stalking a minor and prior victim, blackmailing a minor, and having items in his home that prove he is still a sicko, a jury can’t look away from all that and still deem him safe to society,” Natasha offers. 

“Plus Peter won’t need to get involved,” Clint adds, “you and Pepper can start the charges and the police can ‘just happen’ to find the rest to convict Westcott.” 

“And,” Natasha continues, “we can use the information we have on Westcott to make sure McQueen stays out of the picture, Westcott is his only blemish in his past and it’s a big blemish.”

“I’m more then willing to approach the man who let this monster roam free,” Rhodey puts in, “heck I’ll put the fear of God into McQueen for being the reason Westcott even had the ability to get close to Peter.”

“And if Westcott ends up becoming a eunuch before arriving at prison,” Bucky shrugs, “accidents happen.”

“I’ll help,” Thor offers and the pair pound fists.

Tony nods tiredly, “yes, ah lets go with that. Natasha, Clint, Bucky you three are on evidence planting—”

“If there isn’t some already there,” Clint mutters.

“Sam and Steve, I need you two to reach out to our contacts in the NYPD. I want someone who will keep this hushed up but also be thorough in the house search and interrogation to get the evidence that’s there, the evidence that’s been placed, as well as see the information on his prior juvie stay.” 

The pair nod. 

“Once everything is in place and you two guys have the NYPD picked out to talk to us, Pepper and I will move forward with a lawsuit on the stalking and contact he had with Peter,” Tony turns to his friend, “Rhodey, McQueen is yours. If you need any help Natasha can back you up,” Tony delegates. 

“I’m make sure McQueen regrets his actions,” Rhodey agrees.

“What about Bruce and I?” Thor asks.

“You and Bruce are on standby for that eunuch idea with Bucky. You two can take care of the deed while Bruce makes sure the guy survives. I promised Pepper I wouldn’t do murder but that doesn’t mean I won’t make him suffer physically.”

“Still think we should just kill him,” Bucky mutters.

“Death is to easy,” Natasha cuts in, “he deserves to suffer a long time for what he did to Peter and any other kid out there.”

The team nods in agreement.

“Sir,” Jarvis cuts in, “Mrs. Boss requests you come sit with Peter.”

“Is he ok?” Tony quickly stands.

“He is still sleeping, having entered deep sleep a few minutes ago. Mrs. Boss needs to take her phone call in the office because, and I quote, ‘these people are idiots, how they are allowed to handle the wellbeing of children is beyond me’ and doesn’t wish to wake Master Peter.”

“On it Jarvis,” he glances at his friends, “keep me update but be subtle. Peter picks up things easily and if he doesn’t then one of the girls will.” 

The team nods as Tony leaves the room, murmuring a good luck and rushing off to sit with his son. 

It is times like this Tony is thankful his father sent him off to be a military liaison so long ago. He wouldn’t have ended up forcefully recruited by Fury to be part of this little team operating in secret, ending up with some of the best yet most dangerous people as his new family. The same people who will use their skills to protect and avenge the innocent even though they are retired.

Especially if its family that needs avenging.

“I’m her Pepper,” he speaks quietly when he enters the living room.

His wife nods and points at her phone, stalking off quietly yet angerly towards the bedroom.

Tony kneels beside Peter, gently checking on the boy. 

“Don’t worry buddy,” Tony whispers as he adjusts the blankets, “we’ll keep the monsters away.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Teresa don’t do anything to him,” a stressed whisper in Morgan’s voice echoes into the darkness of Peter’s sleeping mind.

“I’m not going to do anything,” Teresa’s voice sighs in Peter’s ear.

“Then move back, you’re to close,” Morgan’s voice rises in volume a little.

Peter follows the voices out of the darkness of his sleep and into the waking world. Shifting and twitching his body, Peter slowly blinks his eyes open to the dim evening light to find his sisters leaning over him closely while frowning at each other.

“Morgan? Teresa? What are you doing?” He moans and pulls his blankets close to his body to capture the warmth.

Teresa turns a bright smile towards her brother, but Morgan gives the girl a frown and a gentle shove. 

“Look what you did Teresa, mama is going to be mad that you woke him up,” Morgan responds. 

“I didn’t wake him up,” Teresa looks at Peter with her best puppy dog eye impression, “did I Petey?”

Peter doesn’t respond right away, instead his mind works to process the fact the last thing he remembers is sitting on the couch with his father back when the sun was brighter.

“Where’s dad?” he asks finally.

“He had to answer the phone,” Teresa informs him.

“Mama had to go potty,” Morgan jumps in, “she said to keep an eye on you until she comes back.”

“Key word is ‘watch’ in that sentence young ladies,” Pepper appears beside the couch, “not wake him up.”

“I told Teresa to be quiet,” Morgan defends herself, “I told her that Petey had a headache and needed to sleep but she kept talking to loud.”

“I didn’t wake him on purpose,” Teresa argues, “besides its almost dinner time and Petey needs to wake up anyway.”

“I’m not letting this become an argument girls,” Pepper cuts in, “I want you both to find something to do until dinner.”

“Can we watch a movie?” Teresa grins, “Morgan and I played all day with Cassie and Lila, we didn’t have any TV time yet.”

“Well you have a choice,” Pepper responds, “have TV time now and play time after dinner or play now and watch a movie after dinner.”

“I vote play time now,” Morgan nods, “its almost dinner and we won’t finish the movie if we start it now.”

“Teresa? How about you,” her mother prompts.

The other girl frowns for a moment, “ok,” she sighs, “play time now.” Jumping up she dashes for the stairs, “I want the doll house!”

“The trampoline place, playing with the girls, and running around in the snow and _still_ she can run around like that,” Pepper mutters quietly but Peter hears. He shoots a smirk at his mother. 

“Petey will you come play with me?” Morgan asks softly.

“Morgan sweetie, Peter’s not been feeling well so he might want to just lay on the couch some more,” Pepper gently answers the girl.

“I-I can go play,” Peter speaks up. He hasn’t seen much of his sisters, a good big brother would at least try to play with them.

Besides, dinner will be soon.

“Are you sure Peter,” his mother eyes him, “you don’t have to make yourself do that if you don’t want.”

He nods, “I'll be alright mamma.”

Morgan reaches out and takes Peter’s hand with a bright smile, “come to my room Petey, I wanna share something with you.”

Peter returns the smile and nods, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “sure thing Mo.”

With a gleeful giggle Morgan tugs Peter gently, leading him towards the bedroom she shares with Teresa rather then go to the playroom. Peter is unsure what Morgan intends to show him but he doesn’t mind her leading the way, he just woke up but finds himself feeling oddly empty inside. 

Not tired.

Not sad.

Not worried.

Just empty. A weird nothingness. 

“Come sit down,” Morgan pulls Peter to one of the beanbags, gently pushing him to sit. 

The boy flops down into the fabric, watching as Morgan digs into dresser for something. The little girl gives a triumphant ‘ah ha’ after a few minutes and a pile of unfolded clean clothes later. She quickly crawls over and drops the object in question into Peter’s lap. 

Peter picks up what looks to be a simple, handmade ragdoll. It looks similar to the one the neighbor lady made Teresa when Teresa was small. The skin is made from a tan fabric, bright color fabrics are tied and stitched together to make a patchwork dress and bits of yellow yarn stitched to the head to make hair. It is missing one button eye but the doll appears to be well loved.

Odd that Morgan keeps it hidden in her bottom drawer.

“This is Boo, she’s a special dolly,” Morgan informs Peter as she pulls over the other beanbag to sit beside Peter. 

“What’s Boo doing in your dresser?”

Morgan shifts in the beanbag for a moment before reaching over and petting the doll’s head.

“I only bring Boo out when I have a boo boo,” she answers softly. 

“A boo boo?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “an outside ouchie or an inside ouchie. I tell her where my ouchies are when I’m scared to tell the big people.”

Peter sits there absorbing what Morgan just said to him. The wording is off but yet it sounds similar to something he’s heard before around her age, when a doctor gave him a bear to tell his thoughts and hurts to after **he** hurt him.

But why would Morgan know this?

Has someone hurt her too?

Peter’s heart picks up speed at the thought that Morgan’s suffered something bad, sweet Morgan who should be kept safe, who would hurt her?

“Mo,” Peter finds his voice, “Morgan, did someone-someone hurt you?” he asks hesitantly. 

The little girl leans against Peter’s arm, “last time it was hot outside mommy and daddy took me to Malibu. It was fun. We went to a party one day at someone’s house. There were lots of kids there playing in the pool and mommy let me play with them since there were nannies watching everyone. Well when I was playing one of the nannies told me mommy needed to talk to me. But she didn’t take me to mommy. She took me to where the cars were parked. I tried to get away but she put me in the car and took me away. I used my watch to call for help and daddy saved me.”

Peter swallows the lump in his throat, images of little Morgan being dragged into a car against her will by a kidnapper flashes in Peter’s active imagination. This shouldn’t surprise him, the Starks are very important so people would try something like that. 

But the reality scares Peter, the fact it really has happened and it might happen again.

“Mo, I won’t let anyone take you or Teresa. No one will do that to you ever again,” Peter promises his sweet sister.

“I know now,” Morgan nods, “I didn’t know at first. I was afraid a lot. Ms. Sara made me this dolly to help me because I had an inside ouchie. I want you to borrow Boo because you have an inside ouchie too and she’ll make you feel better.”

Peter tries to blink away the tears but they begin to fall past his eyelashes and down his cheeks.

His adopted baby sister has noticed he’s broken and is trying to fix him. 

“That man scared you Petey just like that nanny scared me, Boo can help you feel better.”

Peter squeezes the doll in his hands, trying to control the tears but resulting in several gasps and a hiccup. 

“Peter? Morgan?”

Pepper enters the room, looking for the two children, “Jarvis said—”

She pauses when her eyes fall on Peter and Morgan, the doll in Peter’s hands. 

“Oh Peter,” she goes and kneels on Peter’s other side, squeezing the boy’s shoulder, “you’re ok.”

“N-no I’m not,” he whispers, “I’m supposed-ed to m-make Morgan feel-el better. I’m so-so broken that sh-she has to fi-fix me.” 

“Oh no Peter that’s not it,” Pepper murmurs, “Morgan’s trying to show you she understands you, that she’s felt some of the same things you feel, and she’s just trying to help you the same way people helped her with those feelings.”

“And you’re not broken Petey,” Morgan jumps up with a huff, “Is daddy broken cuz his outside boo boos still hurt him? Am I broken because sometimes I’m scared and remember when the lady took me?”

“N-no,” he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sees Morgan take the same standing position the Pepper has done many times before.

“Then you’re not broken,” Morgan throws herself at Peter, he scrambles to catch her and hold her close, “you’re the best big brother and I’m so glad you chose us. I love you no matter what Peter.”

Peter’s tears come back in full force as he holds Morgan close to him.

He loves his birth family.

He loves his parents.

He loves his aunt and uncle.

But he loves Morgan.

He loves Pepper.

He loves Tony.

He loves his new family so much.

After all the foster families, all the stories he’s heard from other kids, Peter knows he got the best family ever. 

They chose him.

“Thank you for choosing me too Morgan,” he says between tears.

Pepper leans in and hugs both children, Peter glances over to see she too has the shine of watery eyes.

“No matter what has happened to you and what will happen to you, daddy and I love you kids so much.”

“Mrs. Boss, Boss would like to know if you want him to finish making dinner,” Jarvis interrupted the little family moment. 

“Do you two need me to stay or should I go finish dinner?” she asks the pair.

Peter cleans his face with his sleeves and makes a deep sniff of the slime in his nose, “we’ll be ok mamma.”

She nods, moving the box of tissues from the dresser top to the floor beside Peter, “ok well if you two need anything I’ll be down the hallway.”

Their mother leaves with one last glance at the pair before stepping out of the room, Morgan continues to practically sit on top of her brother but leans back with a smile.

“Are you feeling better Petey?” 

“Yeah Mo, you make things better.”

She nods, “good. And you can hang onto Boo until you feel better all the time.”

Peter nods and sets the doll beside him on the beanbag, “ok Mo.”

“Can we color together?” Morgan asks but is getting off Peter’s lap and heading to her desk before the boy responds.

“Sure Morgan,” he can only snicker as she gets out the things.

The pair work on a rather complicated flower design on a large paper together until Jarvis summoned the pair to the dinner table, Teresa was already sitting and waiting with their parents putting food on the table for the kids.

“You two have fun?” Tony smiles at the pair as they sit in their spots.

“We sure did daddy,” Morgan reaches for her cup with a big grin. 

“How you feeling Peter?” Tony inquires as the boy sips his water.

“Alright I guess,” Peter shrugs.

He is feeling alright.

Not so empty.

But not really full of emotion either. 

“Good,” Tony nods.

The family digs into the pasta and salad, the girls telling about their day while Peter listens on. He doesn’t have much to offer to the stories since his day hasn’t been as fun but thankfully neither sister asks him to. After dinner the family settles into the living room to watch a pixar movie, enjoying each other’s company and the endless popcorn.

Occasionally Peter sees his dad text on his phone, odd since Tony usually focuses on his family once he’s out of his office. But his father just smiles and ruffles his hair every time he catches Peter watching him. Peter even catches his father and mother whispering during loud action scenes but neither say anything to the kids.  
Its when Pepper is herding the girls off to get ready for bed that Peter finds himself sitting quietly beside his father as the man rapidly texts a message to someone.

“Dad,” Peter attempts to gain the man’s attention.

“Hmmm?” he responds, finger still moving swiftly on the keyboard.

“Is something wrong? Did something bad happen?”

The man’s finger freezes on the phone, his gaze snapping over to his son, “What? Why do you think that Peter?”

The boy shrugs, “you usually don’t take calls or messages during family time, something must have happened.” Peter glances away nervously. 

Tony reaches out and tugs Peter to his side, “I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t think you’d notice and you’re right I should’ve not done that during family time.”

“So did something bad happen?”

“No buddy, not anymore. Something happened but daddy and his friends cleaned everything up so its all good now,” the man hugs Peter close.

“Ok, I was—well, worried? I don’t know,” the boy shrugs.

Tony chuckles, “its ok to feel that way kiddo and it’s my job to tell you not to worry.” 

Peter nods and tugs on the doll hidden in his lap. Morgan had slipped it under his blanket earlier, he found twisting the yarn hair relaxing. 

“Whatcha got there?” his father gently pulls the blanket, revealing the doll hidden underneath. 

“Morgan says I should borrow her,” Peter refuses to meet his father’s eyes.

“That was nice of her, is it helping?”

Peter shrugs, continuing to twist the doll’s yarn hair.

“Hey dad, you really won’t let **him** hurt us? You can really make **him** go away again?”

Tony’s arms tighten around the boy, “That mon-man won’t ever hurt you or our family or anyone else ever, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Peter whispers as he hides himself into Tony’s shoulder as if he is a child half his age.

“How about you get ready for bed and I’ll do story time with you.”

“Can it be an Iron man story?” 

Tony gives a gentle laugh, “I guess so kiddo.”

Peter nods. He loves hearing stories his dad tells about the hero Iron man and his friends who save people from bad things. He knows they’re not real stories but what kid doesn’t dream of super special people saving the world from bad things?

Peter bounds off and gets ready for bed, wiggling up against the wall so his dad has space to lay beside him. In the darkness of the room the only light comes from the glowing star stickers above them and the night light on the wall, Tony whispering a story about Iron man and his friends flying to the desert to rescue stolen children.

As the story comes to an end with the children reuniting with their families, Peter begins to blink more slowly until the darkness at the edge of his vision and mind absorbs him completely into sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Peter’s fingers danced along the keyboard of his laptop, his body tense with fierce determination. He sits at the living room coffee table focused on finishing his essay the tutor assigned him before one of his parents come and declare its lunch time.

Peter didn’t mean to put off the essay.

His weekend had been….crazy to say the least.

By time Monday rolled around he long forgot the essay, something left undone for two more days until he saw the reminder. Looking at his schoolwork calendar after getting up, the Wednesday square was highlighted in blue to remind him something big is due.

And enter panic mode.

Peter scrambles to put together the essay before and now after his math tutor in hopes of finishing it before his parents notice. 

And his afternoon tutor.

Jarvis has the boring afternoon news playing on the TV, Peter had it put on to keep track of the time without stopping to glance at the clock every few words he types. One or both of his parents always come up for lunch shortly after the afternoon news ends. 

He has mere minutes before that happens.

So he types quickly. 

As soon as he presses the save button and print, Peter exhales the biggest breath and sags into the couch.

“Congratulations Master Peter, you finished with ten minutes to spare,” Jarvis echoes through the room.

“Gotta be a record,” the boy mutters and reflects back to the times in foster care that he spent rushing through homework last minute. 

Peter glances up to the TV, with every intention to change the channel with the remote in his hand. 

Only for him to freeze at what he sees on the screen.

“……our potential candidate Mr. McQueen has made a statement that neither he nor his party have any association with the recently arrested pedophile in Queens. McQueen states the evidence brought to light from several years ago have been either fabricated by an enemy or misinterpreted. In response his party is moving forward with the abuse victim support rally….”

The words are lost on Peter’s ears.

The boy hears nothing.

Instead he stares at the photo in the corner of the screen.

The photo of **him**.

Icy blue eyes reaching through the screen and boring holes into Peter’s chest. 

Peter struggles to catch his breath. The clattering of something falling against the coffee table echoes around him as his hands shake.

His mind begins to swirl with thoughts. What if this is like those scary stories kids tell at school? When you say a ghost’s name they haunt your home? What if **his** picture being here will bring **him** here? 

Peter blinks rapidly, the shape of his tormentor materializing from the photo on the TV. 

“Go away,” he whispers, his mind conjuring images of the man in his home, “go away. Go away!”

Peter screams and throws the first thing his hand touches towards the phantom image of **him**. The couch cushion causes the TV to sway slightly on the wall from the force of the throw. The photo of **him** continues to smile at Peter from the TV, as if mocking the boy now that the phantom image vanishes from Peter’s view.

“Go AWAAAAAYYYY!”

Peter screams at the photo on the top of his lungs, eyes screwing shut from the effort. Taking a breath he continues to scream, trying to push the twinges of phantom pain in his lower back, the ghost touches on his skin, the smell of sweat trying to emerge from his memories. 

“Jarvis shut it off!”

A feminine voice yells over Peter’s volume, two slender hands cup his face trying to calm his screams.

“Peter! Peter! It’s Aunt Nat. Sweetie he isn’t here, he’s gone Peter, he isn’t here.”

Natasha manages to get the boy’s screams to stop but he gasps and pants, eyes glazed and unfocused.

“Peter listen to my voice, feel me rubbing your arms? It’s just you and me in the apartment, we’re safe. He isn’t here. You’re safe Peter. Breathe with be sweetie, feel me breath with you.”

The woman draws Peter’s hand to upper chest, exaggerating each breath with the rise and fall of her shoulders.

Between gasps and whimpers, Peter begins to focus in. 

He finds his aunt bent towards him, her red braid tickling Peter’s hand on her body. 

“Hi Peter,” she smiles as the boy’s eyes focus and become more alive. 

“Hi Aunt Nat,” he gasps.

“You’re going to alright, I’m right here and I’ll keep you safe. No one can hurt you,” she repeats, hopeful that the words will sink into the boy’s mind.

At first they did. The words sunk in and Peter’s breathing began to slowly return to a normal state. But as he mimicked his Aunt’s breathing a realization sets in.

His parents should be here now.

“Wh-where—” his breath begins to pick up again, “where—” he glances past his aunt.

Natasha catches the boy’s thoughts, “the meeting your mom and dad are in is taking longer then planned, they sent me up to get you lunch and ready for your afternoon tutor.”

Peter glances back towards the dark TV.

Are his parents ok?

How does his aunt know they’re ok? She was on her own floor not the office floors.

“Peter,” Natasha reaches out again, “can I hug you?”

The boy nods slowly, stepping into her open arms and clinging tightly to her torso. 

“Everyone is safe Peter. Your safe here. Your father and I made sure this building has the best security, no one will get you here, especially not **him**.”

The boy responds with a jerky nod into her shirt.

“How about we go downstairs and see if we can jailbreak your parents for lunch,” Natasha offers.

Peter’s head snaps up with hopeful eyes, “can we?”

“Yep and I’ll show you how safe this building is, nothing and no one bad will get you in here.”

Peter pulls away but keeps close by holding her right hand with both of his as they leave the apartment together, the elevator descending past many floors before opening to a floor Peter’s never seen before. It looks a bit like the doctor office but with more people and more desks in front of a hallway of doors. 

Over half of the adults pause what they are doing to watch the pair exit the elevator. Peter moves slightly closer to his aunt, eyeing everyone cautiously. 

“They won’t hurt us Peter, these people are safe,” Natasha whispers as she shifts and puts her arm around his shoulder.

“Why are they staring?”

“Because I’m so beautiful,” Natasha replies effortlessly.

Peter snorts and giggles while his aunt shoots him a wink. 

“Ah Ms. Romanoff,” a woman at the center desk beside the hall of doors address them, “Mr. and Mrs. Stark are busy so you’ll have to come back later.”

“Yeah that isn’t going to work,” Natasha eyes the name plate on the desk, “Jean. You or one of the other workers are going to go slip this note,” Natasha lets go of Peter to write on a post-it she swipes from the desk, “to the Starks.”

“Again the Starks will be in their meeting for quite a while, so I suggest you come back later Ms. Romanoff. I’m under strict orders to not disturb them,” Jean sighs.

Natasha frowns but Peter tugs at her arm before she can speak, “it’s ok Aunt Nat, they have to work. I’m old enough to handle waiting till later.”

Natasha gently guides Peter away from the desk to one of the two chairs sitting across from it, the other workers and cubicles out of sight behind him has he sits.

“Just wait right here sweetie, let Aunt Nat handle this,” she brushes his hair gently before stepping over to the desk to talk to Jean in hushed whispers. 

Looking for something to aim his attention towards, Peter picks up a magazine from the side table. His parents look up at him from the cover, bold words talking about the company’s newest achievements to entice readers to open the pages.

Peter is one of those people.

He flips slowly through the magazine, glancing at bold words or bright pictures but eyes searching for familiar names and faces.

His attention is so focused on finding his parents in the magazine that Peter isn’t aware of the male worker coming up beside him until the heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Which Peter responded to with a scream and throwing the magazine at the worker. 

Instead of the brunette man in a suit, flashes of a blonde teenager in sweats pass through his vision momentarily as he falls out of his chair.

“Peter!”

Natasha quickly kneels beside the boy, telling the man to return to his work area then turning her attention to calming Peter down again.

“Peter its ok, you’re safe. That’s a worker here, it’s not **him**. No one bad can get you here,” Natasha quickly comforts Peter.

This time Peter blinks back into reality faster, chest heaving with rapid gasps of air but his eyes are clear as he looks at his aunt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats over and over.

He’s eleven.

Everything happened long ago.

Why is he a mess? He was feeling better, why is this bothering him today?

“There’s nothing to apologize for Peter,” his aunt gently responds.

“Yes there is,” he whispers hoarsely, “I was doing fine. I was having a good day. I had a good day yesterday. I had a good day before that.”

His aunt sighs and gently guides him back into his chair.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before Peter but this will happen, its normal. I’m sure your parents or doctor have said this before but I’m going to say it again: what you’re experiencing is a normal reaction to trauma. Your mind has been in survival mode Peter, all the bad and sad things you’ve been through in such a short time had your brain focused on getting through each day rather then coping. Now that your safe and with people who take care of you, well your brain is trying to deal with all things it’s experienced now that your not in survival mode. Does this make sense?”

The boy takes a deep breath and nods slowly, “how’d you get so smart Aunt Nat?” he asks with a sad smile.

“Because I went through the same thing,” she murmurs and presses a kiss to his forehead, “for years I went through bad things but I was in survival mode. It wasn’t until I started working for your dad that I was safe and that’s when my brain started to cope.”

“How long till you got better?”

Natasha sighs, “I’m not going to lie Peter, I’ll still have bad days sometimes.”

“How do you make the bad days better?”

“By visiting my sweet nieces and nephews,” she smiles and squeezes Peter’s shoulders, “spending time with my loved ones helps me focus on the good things and good feelings.”

“Peter?” a voice draws the pair’s attention. 

Tony steps toward them hastily, eyeing his pale son and sister in all but blood with a worried glance. 

Peter launches out of his chair and hugs his dad’s middle tightly, finding comfort in the man’s cologne and warm embrace.

“Someone had a little episode and can use some mom and dad cuddles,” Natasha spoke from behind Peter quietly. 

“Peter?” another familiar and well loved voice catches his attention.

His mother comes up beside them, Peter reaches out and tries to hug both his parents at once but fails a bit with his short arms.

“Hey buddy, why don’t you take mom upstairs? Can you be my handy helper and make sure she gets some lunch because I know for a fact she skipped it today,” Tony smiles down at the boy, gently guiding him towards his mother’s arms.

“You probably skipped too,” Peter smirks from his mother’s side.

“Well then I’ll borrow Aunt Nat to help me get these papers finished and come right up for some food and Peter cuddles,” he boops the boy’s noise, “sound good?”

Peter nods and Pepper ushers him to the elevator with talk of sandwiches and fruit.

But Peter can still here the low tone of his father’s voice and gentle whispers of his aunt.

As the elevator door closes, he cringes at the thought of his father hearing how babyish he acted earlier.

“Peter,” Pepper draws his attention to her, “Nat said you had a little moment today? Did something set you off or did you just remember things?”

Peter glances away, squeezing his hands together nervously, “ **He** was on TV.”

“Who was?”

“ **HIM** ” Peter hisses back, “the news--it showed—right there—” he waves his hands towards the elevator door as it pings open.

“Well Jarvis and I will be having a talk about TV filters later,” his mother murmurs as she guides Peter into the home.

“It was just a picture,” Peter sighs, “I freaked out over a picture.” The memory of the event with his now rationale and clear thoughts is nothing but embarrassing. With a groan Peter flops over the back of the couch, laying on it in a way that Pepper and Tony still cannot believe their son finds comfortable. 

“Peter it’s ok that this happened,” Pepper sits down beside his torso, stroking it gentle so not to knock him down one way or another, “remember what we talked about? How little moments like this will still happen and when they do its ok. We get through them, we process them, and we move on. Remember the plan?”

Peter nods into the couch cushion.

Monday morning his parents had discussed this with him after consulting the therapist again. It all makes sense but still, he finds is embarrassing that his brain just won’t let these memories disappear like other memories from his childhood. 

“How’s your head? Is it bothering you like the weekend?” his mother asks softly. 

“Not this time,” Peter sighs, “its—this time—I don’t know—” 

“Well there’s a positive, you had a little blip and bounced back fast this time,” Pepper tries to console the boy with positives. 

Peter shrugs and lays there over the back of the couch, basking in the nice feeling of his mamma’s hand rubbing his back. 

“Ok where is my favorite wife and son?”

Peter glances up to see his father enter the room swiftly with a smile aimed at the pair.

“Well I hope we’re your favorite since we’re the only ones,” his mother smiles back.

The man laughs and kisses his wife and flips down on Peter’s other side, the motion causing Peter’s body to bounce on the couch back. Peter lets out a small giggle in the process.

“There’s a sound I like,” Tony tugs on Peter, the boy’s body oozing down onto the couch with a flop of feet on his mother.

“Sorry mamma, it’s dad’s fault,” Peter wiggles his feet away.

Pepper smiles, “there is a lot around here that is your father’s fault.”

“Hey!” Tony pulls Peter onto his lap, “don’t contaminate my son.”

Peter can’t help but giggle again, but the position on his father’s lap has his eyes looking towards the dark TV. Memories of his outburst start to surface again.

“ **He** can’t get in here right?” Peter asks slowly and softly, “we’re safe from **him** right?”

Tony’s arms tighten around Peter, “listen kiddo, I’m sorry you saw that on the TV but your mom and I can promise you that he will never be able to get you and hurt you or anyone else again.”

“Peter,” Pepper gently gains his attention, “what he did and things he is doing now to you and other people is illegal. That means he’s going back to jail.”

“But he’ll get out again,” Peter murmurs, “he got out last time.”

“He won’t have the chance to get out for quite some time,” his father answers, “and we will make sure that if he does get out that he is put somewhere far away, in a place where he can’t hurt you or anyone else.”

“How?”

His parents exchange a look for a moment.

“Well,” his father clears his throat, “ah well, your mom and I talked to some people, and well—”

“They agreed with us,” his mother cuts in, “that the man who hurt you isn’t safe. That he shouldn’t be around children. They agreed with us and agreed to relocate him if he gets out of jail.”

Peter glances at the pair for a moment, the slowly nods and accepts the explanation.

“Good, now how about we get lunch,” Tony sighs in relief, “I’m so hungry I could eat all the cheeseburgers down in the worker cafeteria.”

“You will not be eating that Tony,” Pepper frowns.

“Yeah that’s not healthy,” Peter adds.

“Great, my healthy wife is influencing my son,” his father responds with a dramatic eye roll.

“Such a drama queen,” Pepper sighs, “I’ll order a FEW cheeseburgers but both of you will need to eat some fruit to go with it.”

“What do you think Peter, does this sound like a good a deal?” 

Peter nods, “I think so.”

“Alright Mrs. Stark, we accept your proposition,” Tony dramatically responds.

Pepper just laughs and rolls her eyes, “then you two go get those burgers and I’ll cut the fruit.”

“Let us go requisition our prizes son,” Tony stands and Peter follows his father as they go back to the elevator.

“Be quick or you’ll have to share with the girls,” Pepper calls out to the pair as they enter the elevator. 

Tony smiles at his son as the box descends, “we’ll be so fast she won’t be done with the fruit before we get back.”

Peter smiles and nods.

Thoughts of cheeseburgers and lunch with his parents pushing away the thoughts and memories from earlier.


	13. Chapter 13

Peter jerked awake, blinking in the darkness in confusion.

Something woke him.

He didn’t have a nightmare.

He didn’t feel sick.

But something woke him. 

A voice rises in volume but then hushes as quickly as it rose. 

It’s his father’s voice.

His father is upset.

In the middle of the night.

Full of worry and curiosity, Peter slowly leaves the warmth of his bed, creeping across the cold carpet to the door cracked open to the hallway. Opening the door further, Peter blinks rapidly with watery eyes trying to adjust to the change in lighting. 

He can hear adults talking. He can hear his father. Is that his mother too? But who else is here? The clock says its early AM, why would people be here at this time?

Quietly creeping down the hallway towards the voices, Peter sticks closely to the hallway wall in an attempt to not be seen or heard by the adults.

“….I can’t believe this! The absolute idiots. They had one job!”

Peter watches his father pace in and out of sight, his uncle Rhodey sits in the side chair while Uncle Happy stands nearby typing on his tablet. 

“Tony calm down, remember your heart dear,” Peter’s mother’s voice comes from beyond his sight, probably sitting further down the couch.

“Calm down?! How can I calm down? All that was left was sending him to prison, have the trial, and returning him to prison for a very long time.”

“It was an accident,” Rhodey cuts in, “no one planned a semi to run the red light and hit the transport bus.”

“Yet some how all four other prisoners were accounted for and the guy I’m most concerned about manages to ‘vanish’ from the accident. I don’t believe in coincidences Platypus, this smells of a set up. He isn’t some high-end mob criminal or international blackmailer or some dark web hacker, he doesn’t have the connections to pull a stunt like this,” Tony snaps and continues to pace in and out of Peter’s sight. 

“I’ve got my guys in DC working any leads that my go back to his father,” Rhodey replies, “and with Happy, Natasha, and Jarvis working security here, you guys are safe in this building.”

“Would he try to come here?” Peter’s mother asks.

“A smart person would get out of town as fast as possible,” Peter hears his Aunt Natasha reply.

“Jarvis is running footage from city cameras and last he was seen was heading towards New Jersey,” Happy cuts in, “Sam and Steve are in contact with the NYPD as well as Police near the New York and New Jersey boarder, Bucky’s biker group is connecting to other groups and patrolling Queens and Brooklyn, working their way this direction. The feedback so far is that the situation is a priority but not the highest priority the police have.”

“Not a high priority?!” His father’s voice echoes loudly.

Peter’s mother hushes at him, “the children Tony.”

The man grunts and moans, “how can a monster like him not be a high priority? He will prey on innocent children wherever he goes.”

“I’m saying Tony,” Happy responds, “with the big shooting down in Brooklyn and that big drug bust that’s going down tonight, they need to finish these before they put double the man power behind this search.”

There is silence between the adults but Peter could feel energies of frustration and worry coming from the lit up room. 

Peter feels his hands shaking and his body feels colder as he begins to piece things together. Someone who should be going to jail is now free in the streets. Someone that has his parents worried. 

“Will you all still go to the charity event?” Rhodey shifts the topic. 

Peter knows about that. It’s going to be the first major in person event that Teresa and him will be present as the newest Starks. His parents have been prepping him and Teresa for the event all Thursday and all-day Friday. In fact, its technically Saturday so the event is hours away now. It’s for providing more funding for foster programs, group homes, and ten lucky teens will receive special scholarships towards their education. Peter was actually excited about the event, helping kids he’s met and kids he hasn’t was something he wanted to participate in. He isn’t excited about the press but reason for the event is what has him excited. 

“Yes, making any changes now will cause more of a media storm then we need for the kids. Besides I want them in my sight at all times for now,” his mother responds.

“Besides the event will be down on the second-floor event room, everyone will be safe in the tower,” Happy adds. 

Silence falls on the group again.

“Will you tell Peter?” Rhodey says so quietly that Peter nearly misses it.

“Tell him his rapist somehow escaped the police force after what I promised him?” Tony hisses, “what do you think Rhodes!”

Peter felt his lungs freeze, stuck on inhale.

They’re talking about **him**.

**He** is free and walking the streets. Out there where **he** can hurt other kids.

Other kids like Morgan.

Like Teresa.

Wait. Are they safe? The adults say the tower has good security, but is it good enough? What if he calls and threatens his parents?

What would **he** threaten Tony and Pepper with? 

What if he travels further west? 

What if he crosses Lake Erie like people did for the underground railroad and goes to Canada?

The ‘what ifs’ swirl through Peter’s mind, his breath shortening each passing second as his little mind struggles to process and accept the information. Muscles tensing painfully, Peter shudders while his knees twinge with pain from locking up.

Slowly Peter shuffles quietly back to his room, not bothering to close his door as he stumbles and drops onto his carpet.

His lungs scream for air, he continues to inhale but each breath is short and painful. He hears only the short gasps of his lungs, the sound of his heart rapidly beating inside him. Images of **him** talking to little girls who look a bit like Teresa and Morgan. Images of **him** giving treats and shoulder squeezes to little boys with innocent smiles. Peter felt the burn of bile rise up in his throat only to get caught in the painfully small space in his throat air fought to pass through. 

“PETER!”

The voice cuts through his panic thoughts just enough for him to register someone holding him rather tightly.

“Peter! Baby focus on mamma, listen for me sweetie, come back to me,” his mother’s voice filters in his ears over the sound of his heartbeat.

“Come on honey, we’re in your bedroom. We’re safe and sound, you’re ok,” Peter realizes his body is rocking back and forth slightly, the motion coming from his mother’s arms around him. 

Peter goes to use his voice only to cough and choke on the little air burning in his throat.

“Tony!”

“I got it right here Pep.”

A loud humming noise overpowers every other sound in Peter’s mind. Something hard and plastic is pushed against his face, funny tasting air fills his mouth.

“Breathe Peter, its just the nebulizer. Breathe for me baby,” his mother coos and continues to hold him tightly. 

Peter tries to inhale, the breath shaky and not enough. He coughs and tries again. The sound of his gasps echoes with the machine, occasional coughing fits interrupt any sort of pattern in his breathing.

Something solid presses against his lower back and someone pushes him gently backward. He finds himself laying onto a beanbag as his hands move to cling onto whoever is holding the breathing mask on his face.

Its when something warm and fuzzy is put on him and someone moves his legs into a comfortable position that Peter finally opens his eyes. Images of **him** are replaced with the stars on his ceiling and his mother leaning over him closely. 

“M-ma-ma,” Peter tries to speak but ends up coughing.

“Shhh, it’s ok, I’m right here,” she gently runs her hand through his hair, squeezing his shoulder with her other hand.

Peter realizes the mask is being held in place without the straps thanks to his father.

The man leans further into Peter’s view. 

“Just keep breathing kiddo,” his father whispers. “Whatever you saw in your head isn’t real. Your room is real, you mom and I sitting here is real, your safe and protected kiddo.”

The burning of his eyes leads to a few tears sneaking from them, his mother cleans them gently with her fingers. 

“Is he alright? Do I need to call down to medical?” Happy’s voice comes to Peter’s ears.

“The treatment is clearing up his breathing,” his mother answers, “I think once we get him calm he’ll be able to sleep again.”

“That must’ve been quite the nightmare kiddo,” his father murmurs and gently rubs Peter’s cheek.

Nightmare?

In the fog of Peter’s mind he realizes that the adults don’t know he heard them. 

He isn’t sure if this is a bad thing or a good thing.

“We’ll talk in the morning Tones,” Rhodey calls out quietly, the light from the hallway filling Peter’s room now that the people in his doorway have left. 

“S’ry,” Peter tries to apologize.

“Hush now Peter, there is nothing to apologize for,” his mother chides him.

But there is.

He heard them talking.

He knows the secret now.

But he doesn’t want to tell them he knows.

The weird suctioning sound begins, signaling the end of the medicine. His mother turns off the machine and rubs his face gently with a rag to remove the condensation. 

“I’ll clean this up if you want to get him settled,” she murmurs to Tony. 

The man nods and in with a grunt, hoists Peter up in his arms, carrying the boy over to the bed and gently depositing him among the plush blankets. 

“Alight kiddo, lets try and get a few more hours of rest. We have a busy day today,” his father murmurs as he pushes Peter further onto the bed and tucks him in. 

Peter’s eyes widen as his father kicks off his slippers and robe, climbing up beside Peter.

“Dad y-you do-don’t,” Peter speaks hoarsely.

“Shhh, I don’t have to, but I want to kiddo,” Tony rubs Peter’s head, “I’ll be right here to keep the bad dreams away, try and get some rest.”

Peter took a breath and nodded, twisting further into his father’s body for comfort as the exhaustion from the episode and the shakes from the medicine begin to set in. 

He must’ve nodded off for soon he jerks awake, his knee smacking something soft but solid.

A grunt signals he kneed his father.

“Shhh Peter, it’s ok buddy,” a large hand rubs along Peter’s back, “it’s ok, I’m right here.” 

A few blinks later and Peter’s mind disappears into the darkness. 

Only to fall into a dimly lit room with dirty sheets and unfriendly ice blue eyes looking at him.

Peter comes back awake with a yell.

A large hand slowly rubs his side, “you’re ok Peter. It’s just a dream, no one can hurt you, you’re safe.”

This cycle continues until Peter finally gives up trying to sleep. He focuses on watching the early morning sun begin to fill his room as his father snores softly beside him, the man’s arm draped over Peter’s chest protectively. 

He knows soon the sounds of his sisters and mother will fill the apartment.

Soon they will begin their Saturday routine.

And hours from now they’ll go to the charity event.

“This is going to be a long day,” he whispers to himself sadly.


	14. Chapter 14

Peter stares at the blue image hovering above his desk with tired eyes, the image occasionally spinning slightly as Peter taps his pen against it. The sounds of Morgan demanding to have two braids instead of one filter through the partially open door of his bedroom. Peter finished getting himself ready for the charity event awhile ago, choosing to sit and run virtual tests on his robot he started building a few weeks ago rather then go out into the war zone that is his parents and sisters getting ready for the event. That and he’s sure his mom will see his droopy eyelids and demand him to stay up in the apartment with a family member. He really doesn’t want to miss this. 

Yes he dreaded the people and photos, but he might see some of the other kids he actually liked at his old foster homes. That first family was kind of nice after all. And who knows maybe other kids will find families like him and Teresa at this.

To keep himself looking alive and alert he focuses on his little spider robot.

Well. Not quite little. The little bot is about the size of a dinner plate counting it’s legs and ball like body. Originally Peter was creating it as a playmate for lonely kids as well as a memory storage item for kids who have to keep moving with little items to their name.

Like him and Teresa.

But now. Now Peter wants to put a reporting program in it. Something where the bot can record data and get help for kids who are abused but are to afraid or don’t understand what to do. 

Peter’s thoughts are interrupted by a knock on his door.

“Hey kiddo, mom sent me to check on you,” Tony enters the room, glancing around for Peter for a moment. “Oh working on your new friend?”

Peter shrugs, spinning the image again. 

“It’s looking pretty good kiddo, we should try making a prototype during our lab time soon,” Tony attempts to prompt a response from the boy. 

Peter just shrugs.

He’s afraid if he opens his mouth his dad will see he’s tired.

Or worse.

Peter might let slip he knows about **him** escaping. 

“Come here bug,” Peter is tugged out of the chair and led to the bed where his father sets them downside by side. 

“I can see some big thoughts swirling in that head of your Peter, what to share?”

The boy shrugs again, focusing on the cuff of his dress shirt. 

“hmmm,” the man squeezes Peter’s shoulder, “are you worried about tonight? Is it the publicity stuff? Fancy party stuff? Worried your mom will find out your underwear doesn’t match your socks.” 

That shocks Peter. The boy snorts and coughs as he tries to control his sudden laughter.

“Ah there’s a reaction.”

“Does your underwear match your socks,” Peter smirks at the man.

“That’s something you don’t need to know kiddo,” Tony boops Peter on the nose. “Now tell me buddy, what’s got you thinking with such a frowny face.”

“We’re safe here right? Even though all these strangers are coming with the kids downstairs, we’re safe?”

The man squeezes Peter’s shoulder gently, hugging the boy close, “of course. Even though people will be coming and going there will be security here, Jarvis will be watching, and even if someone bad does appear I’ll be right there as soon as you call me to protect you.”

Peter nods, shifting nervously. Would **he** show up? The adults said he was seen leaving the area, what if that was a trick?

“And you know what you have that can help too?”

Peter shakes his head, “what?”

His father taps on Peter’s neck, then his hands, then his feet. “If anyone bad comes near you, then you scream. Scream as loud and as long as you can. If they touch you, you hit them till they let go. And above all, you run. You run away from the bad people. You understand?”

Peter nods and sighs after a moment.

“What’s that sigh for?”

“Will mamma get made at me if I say something wrong tonight?” Peter mutters, “there’s going to be people watching us and well—” he ends with a shrug. 

“Peter, peter, peter,” his father chuckles, “I highly doubt you’ll do anything wrong. And even if you decide to eat your weight in chocolate someone snuck in, vomited on a reporter’s shoes, and proceed to tell absurd knock knock jokes while standing on a table; your mother and I will still love you.”

Peter wrinkles his nose in disgust, “ew dad, just, that, ew—” 

Tony laughs deeply, “and with that response right there I’m sure you’ll won’t do anything wrong.”

Peter eyes his father for a moment, “dad, did you do that as a kid?”

His father just shrugs, “guess you’ll have to do some research and find out.”

“Or I could ask Jarvis,” Peter counters with a smirk.

“BOYS!”

“or we can go to your mom before she comes storming to find us,” Tony quickly jumps up from the bed and as Peter stands, his father quickly tugs on the boy’s shirt.

“I was supposed to be checking your appearance, my bad,” he mutters as he fingers Peter’s hair, trying to organize the brown waves attempting to break free from the gel Pepper put their earlier.

“Alright, grab your suit jacket kiddo,” his father finally nods, deciding Peter’s appearance was ready.

“Should I put on a tie dad?” Peter asks as he slips into the fancy jacket, buttoning it carefully at his waist.

“Nah, maybe when you get a little taller,” the man adjusts the collar of Peter’s suit jacket quickly.

“BOYS!”

“Come on buddy,” Peter’s father quickly guides him out of the room and through the apartment to the elevator. 

The father son duo are greeted by Pepper’s scrutinous gaze and two overly excited little girls spinning in place to make their dresses poof outward. Peter’s mother brushes at his shoulders and kisses his head before leading the family into the elevator, pleased with everyone’s appearances. 

The elevator takes Peter and his family to a lower floor, opening to reveal a hallway leading to a large room with windows for walls. Music and voices grow louder in Peter’s ears as they reach the room, people of all ages wandering around, some talking, some kids were dancing, and others stood by the long white tables of food and drinks. 

Peter and his family didn’t get very far into the room before several adults rush over, cameras and recorders at the ready. 

“Mr. Stark! Mrs. Stark!” 

“Let’s have a photo kids!”

“Look here everyone!”

Peter feels a small hand take his, looking down Teresa tucks closer to him with wide eyes.

“Everyone calm down and back up or we’ll have you removed,” their father growls as their mother steps in front of Peter and his sisters.

“Happy, Nat can you two walk the kids around while Pepper and I take care of this?”

Peter’s head snaps up and finds his aunt and uncle standing by the family.

When did they show up?

Peter didn’t even see them there.

“Come on kids,” Aunt Nat smiles at them as she takes Morgan’s hand and lifts her long dress with her other hand, “wait till you see the fun play area your mom and dad set up.”

Fun isn’t the word Peter would use to describe the play area. No he would use the word extravagant. A whole corner of the large event ballroom is covered with a thick rainbow safety mat that dozens of foster children run around on. They run to and from bins of toys, small tables of coloring supplies, and some dive in and out of the two large bouncy houses that several adults monitor. A few more adults monitor a table of snacks, helping smaller children get cups of juice and making sure the older kids don’t eat all the marshmallows or use them as projectiles. 

“Aunt Nat can we go jump?” Morgan squeals.

“I’ve always wanted to play in those,” Teresa gasps.

“Alright you two, lets go give it a try,” their aunt smiles and leads the girls towards the goal.

“You wanna try Peter?” Happy prompts the boy.

But he shakes his head, “no, I want to try some snacks.”

The man laughs and nods toward the table, “go ahead kid, just remember not to overdo it, I’m not cleaning up any of your puke from to much sugar.”

“Gross,” Peter frowns and walks away.

He won’t overdo it.

He will make sure he doesn’t ruin this event with something like that.

He’s gotta make a good impression here. 

He snatches up two small triangle sandwiches, a couple cookies, and two of what the worker calls ‘cream puffs’ along with a cup of water.

“See,” Peter mumbles to himself as he walks toward Happy, “I won’t overdo it.” 

Peter stands beside the man, fumbling with his plate and cup as he tries to eat his sandwiches without dropping anything. 

“Give me the cup Peter,” the man sighs, “just watching you stresses me out.”

Peter goes to apologize but sees his uncle’s big smile, a sign he is playing with Peter. 

Peter hands over the cup which makes it easier for him to down the sandwiches and cookies while watching his aunt cheer Teresa and Morgan on from the outside edge of the bounce house. Down to his last cream puff, Peter pauses to watch Happy get dragged off to try and untangle two young kids from a jump rope disaster beside them. The man mumbles about watching the Stark kids but puts every effort into freeing the boy and girls from the knot their jump rope has become. 

Suddenly, Peter jerks as a body roughly bumps into him. Glance over he watches as a dark-haired catering employee moves quickly in the direction the food and drinks were coming from. Not wanting to make a scene, Peter uses his napkin to scoop up the sad desert from the shiny tile floor.

Only to see a wristwatch with a broken clasp beside his fallen sweet. It isn’t fancy like his new father’s watches but Peter guesses its well loved from the worn leather strap and broken piece.

“Uncle Happy, a worker dropped this and I’m going to go give it back before the disappear,” Peter calls out to the man, turning quickly from the group and jogging into the crowd before any adult can stop him. 

Peter has a watch like this one.

It was Ben’s.

If he ever lost it, he would be beyond sad. 

He doesn’t want this stranger to feel that for this watch. 

He catches a glimpse of the person he’s looking for, managing to close the gap between them swiftly despite the adult’s height.

The man is nearly to the door where Peter assumes a kitchen is, since food and drinks come and go from there, when Peter manages to get close enough to be heard.

“Excuse me! Sir? Excuse me.”

The man pauses and side steps away from the door with a wave for Peter to follow. They duck behind one of the large pillars, Peter holding out the watch.

“Sir you dropped this.”

The man sets down his tray at his feet, turning and reaching out towards Peter’s outstretched hand.

“What a good boy you are Peter.”

Peter’s heart stutters in his chest, eyes glance from the hand holding tightly on his own. Dark hair, slightly swollen jaw, a noticeable Band-Aid stretched across his nose, features that shouldn’t belong to that familiar voice.

But the cold ice blue eyes, those belong to one person, the person who owns that voice.

“Hello Peter,” Skip gives a small smirk, “told you we’d see each other again.”


	15. Chapter 15

“S-s-skip?” Peter gasps hesitatingly.

“Haha,” the man squeezes Peter’s hand tighter, “you like my hair? Just like your new dad’s.”

“Wh-wh-what? I—you—uh—” Peter struggles to process his thoughts.

“I’m a little sore though,” the young man touches his jaw gently at the swelling.

Peter tugs his hand, trying to free it from the man’s grip. **He** responds by gripping Peter harder. Peter’s stomach twists and the food he just ate suddenly begins to rise up into his throat. Peter’s chest squeezes painfully, the air also struggling to come in and out of his lungs. Short pants are all that sustains Peter, gasps of air that become shorter the more he twists his wrist and finds himself unable to get free.

“Odd,” Skip continues as if he isn’t aware of Peter’s struggle, “that I see you and then police are coming to my apartment, I’m being dragged off to for breaking laws, have you been talking to people Peter?” 

The man tugs Peter’s arm roughly, pulling Peter further into the shadows of the pillar, Peter giving a whimper at the motion. 

“Doesn’t matter,” the man hisses, leaning closer to Peter, “you’re going to help me since this mess is you fault.”

“N-no,” Peter yanks on his hand, it almost slips free between the force and the sweat his body is now giving off in large quantities. 

“Just hush Peter, I’ll take care of you,” Skip tugs Peter again, a hallway looming behind the man, “I’ll always take care of you because I love you.”

“N-no,” Peter chokes out, “le-let go.”

“Now Peter, don’t cause a scene. You don’t want to embarrass your new parents. They might not like you if you embarrass them,” Skip frowns. 

“They wouldn’t—they said—” Peter attempted to talk but the words are thick and heavy in his throat.

“They, they, they,” Skip said with a high pitch voice, “jeez Peter I thought you got over the stuttering already.”

“You—you’re—no,” he gasps still trying to wiggle his hand free, dropping the watch and hoping that will help.

“No? No what Peter? No your parents won’t find you embarrassing? Oh Peter they will, the media will have a field day with you and nobody but me will be left to love you.”

For a tiny moment Peter hesitates. Skip voices Peter’s own fears, fears he’s had nag away at him every so often.

_we will always love you no matter what kiddo_

Peter hears his father’s voice fill his head. 

Neither Tony nor Pepper have lied to him since they met.

But Skip?

Skip has always been a liar. 

A tiny spark of strength jolts through Peter, surprising the boy but strengthening his mind. 

“Lies,” Peter hisses and tugs his hand harder, “you lie. My parents love me, no matter what.”

“They do? I doubt that, I love you Peter,” the man smirks.

“Y-you’re wrong,” Peter yanks harder, tears filling his eyes as he tries to push past all the different pains he’s feeling, “they love me.”

Skip frowns, Peter doesn’t see the man is clearly not fond of the boy actually fighting back, “do they really?”

“Mamma and daddy, they-they love me, no-no matter what, they say it every day,” Peter tries to take a deep breath between gasps, “you’re nothing but a mean, lying, monster! And I said NO!”

With that, Peter’s tiny boost of courage is enough for the boy to regain control of his body, leg shooting out and kicking the man in the no-no zone. 

Skip releases Peter’s wrist with a grunt, bending over just enough for Peter to smack the man’s swollen jaw.

“You’ll leave me alone forever, you evil meanie!” Peter says louder.

Taking a deep breath, Peter opens his mouth and lets out a scream that rivals Teresa’s when she doesn’t get her way.

It wasn’t words.

Just the loudest sound Peter could muster from his body.

Skip manages to regain a standing position, reaching for Peter.

Leaning backwards, Peter loses his balance, falling onto his bottom but begins crab crawling backwards away from the man and out of the shadows. 

“Peter!”

He flips sideways to see his parents pushing through the crowd of people moving his direction. Crawling and stumbling up to his feet, Peter falls into his mother’s open arms, face wet with tears and sweat.

“Hh-e, hi-him, he,” Peter attempts to speak but gasps for air cut between the sounds his mouth tries to produce. 

His words are cut off by a shout.

Looking back he sees a couple men in suits holding Skip who lays on the ground holding his face, Peter’s father standing over him.

Voices are now growing louder.

Strangers are looking.

Peter can hear the distinct sound of a camera going off somewhere near him.

But Peter doesn’t say anything.

Rather his clings to his mother, body trembling and gasping for air. 

“I got you baby,” his mother whispers as Peter is suddenly shifted.

Face buried into his mother’s side, he stumbles as she half carries him half guides him somewhere.

“Rhodey took the girls upstairs,” a voice causes Peter to stop moving, a voice that he barely registers as his aunt Nat’s. “Happy’s making sure Tony doesn’t murder him in public.”

“I don’t care what you all do,” Peter’s mother hisses, “just be discrete.”

With that Peter’s moving again, his mother still half carrying, half guiding him from all the lights and sounds. Sounds that dull into a whirling noise while the colorful lights become nothing but a harsh white glare in his eyes. These then become the sound of Peter’s feet on carpet and dim lighting that Peter finds relief in.

With that relief he finally focuses his gaze.

He’s in his room.

His mother brought him to his room.

“Come baby lets get these clothes off and into something comfy,” she murmurs as she unbuttons his shirt.

Peter shrugs out of his jacket but loses what little energy and strength he has, stumbling back and flopping onto his bed from the effort. 

“Mamma,” Peter finally finds his voice, a hoarse sound compared to normal, “Morgan? Teresa?”

His mother manages to free wiggle Peter’s head through the hole of a sweatshirt.

“Uncle Rhodey and his mother, your nana Rhodes, are playing with them,” she replies as she replaces Peter’s socks with a pair of fluffy ones.

“They need you,” he tries again. Tries to tell his mother to care for the girls too, that he’s being selfish.

“So do you sweetie. Somedays daddy and I will have to work hard to help Morgan, other days Teresa will need our attention. Today it’s you, now lift up sweetie.”

She swiftly yanks his pants off and swiftly replaces them with warm flannel pajama bottoms he loves.

“Daddy?” Peter tries to talk again, but coughs after one word.

“He’s taking care of everything downstairs and I’m sure he’ll be rushing up here to check on you kids as soon as he can,” she gently answers and rubs Peter’s hair.

Peter feels the prickling feeling in his eyes.

He’s safe, he knows he is.

But the tears begin to blur his vision again.

His mother notices and sits beside him, rubbing his back as she rocks him gently.

“I kicked him mamma, I hit him too,” Peter whispers into her shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you Peter, you were so brave.”

“I said no and I fought him, mamma does that mean he’ll go away now?”

“He’s going away Peter, even if you were to afraid to move he’d still be going away.”

“But I fought him mamma.”

“Yes you’re stronger then him and any bad thoughts he gave you. You are so strong baby.” 

“I fought him,” Peter repeats, “I said no and I fought him. He can’t get me now.”

“That’s right,” his mother hums, “you’re safe. He can’t ever get you again, I promise.”

Peter nods, wrapping his arms tighter around his mother, the rocking motion making his eyelids harder to open and close. 

“I defeated the monster mamma,” Peter whispers as his eyelids refuse to open again, “just like daddy’s hero stories. Now he’ll never get me again.”

“That’s right baby, he’ll never get you again.”

Peter feels a small smile tug at his lips as the images of superheroes fill his imagination and soon his dreams.


	16. Chapter 16

To say Tony Stark was angry would be the understatement of the year.

No century.

The billionaire was beyond livid, his anger at a level that probably isn’t good for his already weak heart. The man doesn’t pay much attention to his heart, but rather focus on the man being restrained by his security team, Happy holding tightly to Tony’s arm.

“Boss, don’t kill him in public, that would only hurt Peter more,” Happy continuously murmurs to Tony, the only thing keeping the man from downright murdering the monster before him. 

“Guests have called the police,” Natasha comes up to the group, “should we hand him over.”

“Of course,” Happy hisses, “if he dies now, everyone will be pointing at Tony and Pepper as the culprits. Those kids have been through enough, having their parents be accused of murder isn’t going to help any.” 

Tony takes a deep breath, settling his thoughts and trying to push past the anger to think clearly.

“Natasha, hand him over to the police,” Tony finally mutters between his teeth.

“But—”

Tony cuts her off, “if he arrives at the station alive or not, that’s not my problem. Just make sure it happens away from here where fingers will point elsewhere.”

The woman nods, a smirk rising on her lips as she walks away to do only Tony can imagine.

“Happy, have security make sure everyone is alright and get them out of here.”

“What about the press?”

“Release a statement to them that PR will be in contact in before the morning, make sure there is a list which people were here. I also want you to make sure any photos of the kids or him,” Tony jerks his chin at the monster, “are removed. I will sue anyone who posts my kid in distress for entertainment.”

“Understood,” Happy finally lets go, “what will you do boss?”

“Say my peace and check on my family,” Tony moves toward the man on the floor.

The party goers begin to disperse as security and Happy work to get rid of everyone. Tony doesn’t focus on that, just on the man who lays on the tile floor watching him closely.

“Hello Stark,” the monster hisses while holding his now a swollen cheek that matches his swollen jaw. 

“Listen here you disgusting sack of flesh,” Tony hisses at the man in anger, “you touched my boy, you hurt my boy, you threatened my boy, and personally I would love to stick you in some dark room and let you be tortured for so long that all you know is pain.”

“You can’t do that,” the monster huffs, “you would be as much as a monster as me in sweet Peter’s eyes.”

“Don’t say his name. You have not right to say his name, no right to even think about him. I love my son and I want to be the best roll model for him so I won’t do that. But understand this: you’re going to regret ever coming near my family.”

“You really love that stuttering, bed-wetting, insecure mess of a kid,” the monster responds with an almost shocked look on his swollen face.

“Of course I do you monster, he’s my son,” Tony then kicks the man in the ribs as he stands, “and that’s for saying those things about my boy.” 

The monster of a man groans, rolling slightly, “see you at court,” he gasps out.

“If you make it there,” Tony snaps, “I won’t do anything but that doesn’t mean other people won’t.”

Turning on his heel, Tony stalks quickly down the hallway towards the elevator opposite of the entrance door. 

As the elevator closes around him he watches his security pass the monster to the police, Natasha standing nearby watching from the shadows in her work outfit.

The monster won’t make it to the station, Tony knows this from the look Natasha holds.

It’s the look he saw before they all retired.

When the elevator brings him to the apartment, Tony quickly stalks down the hallway towards his family. 

Laughter and squeals come from the girls room, pausing to check on his princesses Tony’s anger dissipates considerably at the sight. 

Rhodey, mama Rhodes, and the two girls sit on the floor around a plastic tea set and a plate of cookies from the party. Both girls wear beads and bows, Teresa twirling a ribbon wand over the food dramatically. Mama Rhodes sits with a plastic gold crown and a blanket on her shoulders, obviously the queen of the party. 

But Rhodey?

Tony’s long time friend and brother in all but blood, sits with a pink feather and glitter tiara on his head, a feather boa around his neck and rings decorating every one of his long dark fingers.

“What do we have here?” Tony finally gains the party goers attention. 

“Tea time with the queen,” Teresa informs him with big grin.

“Daddy is Petey ok?” Morgan asks with a frown.

The man bends down, both girls get up and come around to him, leaning onto his shoulders from both sides.

“Well,” Tony wraps his arms around each, “there was a scary man who bothered Peter back in the park remember?”

Both girls nod.

“Well he tried to come here tonight to scare Peter again.”

“Did you get him dad? Did you get the scary man?” Teresa gasps.

“Yes peanut, Aunt Nat, me, and Uncle Happy got rid of the scary man and he’s never going to bother our family again,” Tony hugs both girls closer.

“Is Petey ok daddy?” Teresa glances at the door behind him.

“He will be, he just needs some rest and we need to give him some extra hugs to remind him we love him.”

“We can do that,” Morgan nods, “we can give him lots of hugs tomorrow and the next day and the next day and the next day and—”

Tony chuckles, “yes that works Morgan.”

“Do we have to go to bed soon,” Teresa whines.

Tony checks the clock, “soon peanut, why don’t you play for another half hour and then we’ll let Uncle Rhodey and Nana Rhodes go home.”

“Then we can get a bubble bath?” Morgan works her puppy dog eyes on Tony.

The man kisses both girls, “yes lets do a bubble bath and story time tonight.”

Tony gave each an extra strong hug, not wanting to let go but yet wanting to go to Peter. He wants to make sure his girls get enough attention amid Peter’s needs, it says in the parenting books to try and give equal attention and if not to provide explanations to the children for the momentary lack. 

He hopes a bubble bath and story time is enough to make for the time he and Pepper will be putting into Peter after that monster showed up again. 

“You go check on your boy Tony,” Mama Rhodes murmurs as she tugs Morgan into her lap.

“Teresa, wanna split the cookies up before bath time?” Rhodey draws the little girl’s attention.

Tony backs out of the room slowly, watching the girls go back to playing innocently. 

Tony moves to the next room, finding it dimly lit by some nightlights Pepper put near Peter’s bed and door to guide him out of the room on rough nights. 

Both people in question are on the bed, Pepper in her dress rocking Peter gently while the boy leans asleep into her side, his head supported with her hand. She glances up at Tony’s entrance, her eyes filled with determined curiosity. 

“How is he?” Tony murmurs as he kneels beside the boy.

“Shook up but surprisingly better then expected,” she replies softly.

“Really?”

She nods, “he said ‘I fought the monster mamma’ ‘I told him no and fought him’ ‘he won’t come back now’. He seemed really proud of himself despite everything.”

Tony gently strokes the boy’s head, “probably got some kind of closure in a sense. He was able to fight back and see his aggressor hurt then taken away by authorities, something many victims don’t get.”

“We should contact Doctor Sarah,” Pepper gently strokes Peter’s cheek.

“We will in the morning. We need to make sure PR handles tonight’s stunt, I don’t want Peter all over the morning paper.”

“Let me lay him down and we can do that together.”

“Well I promised our girls a bubble bath and story first,” Tony offers a sheepish smile to his wife.

The woman nods, “sounds good. We’ve survived on less sleep.”

The pair work together to gently lower Peter onto the bed, positioning him under the covers and kissing him gently with whispers of love before leaving the room.

In the hall Pepper takes a hold of Tony’s arm.

“That man, what happened?”

“People already called the police before we could do anything. I had the security hand him over,” Tony sighs.

“For once in my life I really wish—” Pepper hisses in frustration instead of finishing the sentence.

“I unleashed Nat, told her whatever happens between here and the station is up to her,” Tony counters.

“Good,” Pepper nods, “then he won’t make it there alive.”

The two adults stand there for a moment before Pepper gives an audible shaky inhale. Tony draws his wife close to him and feels her shoulders hitch some.

“Why?” she murmurs into Tony’s shoulder, “why Peter? He’s only eleven, why is the world hurting him? His parents, his aunt and uncle, those foster homes, and now this monster,” Pepper cuts off with a small sob. 

“I don’t know,” Tony murmurs while rubbing his wife’s back, trying to fight his own tears. 

They stay there in each other’s arms for a moment, finding comfort with each other over the pain they’ve seen their son go through and the pain they weren’t there to witness.

Until a high pitch yell interrupts them.

“Mommy! Daddy! Morgan stole my pajamas!”

“I did not!”

Both adults shift from crying to laughing at the sounds of their daughters. Brushing away their tears and giving one last kiss before a second holler fills the hall.

“Teresa isn’t sharing!”

“Am too!” 

“Guess we should intervene,” Tony sighs.

“Probably,” Pepper gently squeezes her husband’s arm and goes to the room where the girls are now arguing loudly.

Tony goes to follow but pauses when his phone beeps.

_he’s gone  
Went out screaming for death  
Trail buried, looks like accident  
Others heading home   
Delete this  
N _

Tony deletes the message, activating a code to make sure the texts are gone for good.

“Jarvis,” Tony pockets his phone

“Yes sir?”

“Keep an eye on what happened to Westcott. Make sure to alert me if anything pops up that can connect his demise to me, family, the team, or their families. Understood?”

“Activating WatchDog protocol sir. Anything else?”

Tony glances back at his son’s door, “just the usual with Peter.”

“As you wish sir.”


	17. Chapter 17

Three. 

Three lightbulbs are dimmer than the rest in the ceiling above Peter. 

Its been three weeks since he fought Skip.

Three weeks since his visits with Doctor Sara increased to twice a week instead of once a week. 

Three weeks and he still had bad days. 

Peter’s chest rises and falls swiftly, gasping pants as he stares at the high lofted ceiling of the apartment living room. 

Covering his eyes with his palms, he takes a breath and lets out an ear-piercing scream. The third one of the morning. 

His scream ends with a sob like gasp, except his eyes are dry for his tears have long since ran out. 

“Peter, baby,” a soft voice catches his attention. 

His mother sits nearby on the floor, coffee table pushed away leaving the pair circled by furniture in the open space. He isn’t sure when or who moved the table but he doesn’t care. At this point he just wants to feel better.

The night before he was woken by several bad dreams, some about Skip, some about his parents sending him away, some about faceless strangers taking him. His morning shower didn’t go well. His skin itched with phantom touches that weren’t really there, the water just drawing emphasizing those. He didn’t want to talk, just nodding at his parents and sisters through breakfast. Part of Peter wanted to go back to his room, curl up in a blanket at the back of his closet and let the day just pass by. 

But that wasn’t part of today’s plans. Instead he sat listening to his sisters loudly talk about school. Listened to his parents talk about their schedules. Tried not to flinch every time someone brushed up against him. Tried hard to chew and swallow his breakfast like he’s supposed to instead of spit it out. He tried to be a good boy.

But when his mother squeezed his shoulder and tell him its time for his meeting with Doctor Sarah, Peter couldn’t take it anymore. With a single scream, tears flooded as he flopped to the floor in the living room. 

At some point his father took his sisters to school.

At some point his mother tried to talk to him.

None of these he was aware of in his bubble. 

All he is a aware of is the itch of his skin, the pain in his head, the heavy tired feeling in his arms and legs, the heavy feeling in his stomach, and the bad thoughts trying to whisper to him. 

And his heart hurts.

He shouldn’t be yelling.

He shouldn’t be upset.

He should use his words. 

He should be okay. He’s safe. He’s with his family. Skip is gone. Strangers can’t get to him here. His family loves him.

But he doesn’t feel okay. He should feel okay, but he doesn’t. 

“Peter,” his mother whispers gently, “do me a favor baby. Can you turn towards mamma? Just turn your head this way sweetie.” 

With some sniffles, Peter lowers his hands as his head turns and eyes fall onto his mother.

She holds up a Stark tablet, the device displaying three color squares: red, blue, yellow.

“Hey baby, can you use your colors to show me how you feel? Just like we learned in therapy.”

His colors.

He’s had them for a while. His sisters have them too. His parents like to use them to find out how they all feel.

Green is happy, green means good to go, green means calm, green means a good day, green is where he should be.

But he isn’t.

So green isn’t on the screen.

Blue? Is he blue? 

He isn’t sad. He isn’t bored. He isn’t sick. He is a little tired. 

Red? Is he red?

He isn’t feeling mean. He isn’t wanting to hurt his mamma. He isn’t wanting to hurt himself. He is a little mad at himself. He is feeling a little hurt. 

Yellow? Maybe yellow.

Reaching out Peter touches the yellow button, the screen changing to an array of words with faces. Touching again, Peter selects frustrated and anxious buttons. But before his mother can respond, Peter pages back to select the red button and then hurt. 

“Peter can you tell me what hurts?” his mother moves the tablet so he can see the pictures of a body and a list of words.

“E-everywhere,” Peter speaks as he swirls his hand around the image, “my-my head. Tired. Don’t touch. No talking.”

With a groan Peter covers his eyes again, frustrated at himself. 

He’s a big kid. 

He shouldn’t be acting like this.

He shouldn’t be talking like this.

“Ok baby, it’s ok.”

“N-no,” he sobs, “not ok.”

“Peter, Peter look at me,” she speaks a little louder. The boy turns to her in response, “it’s ok to not be ok. Peter remember what we say, there will be bad days and that’s ok. Did you have trouble sleeping baby?”

Peter nods slowly.

“Nightmares?”

Peter nods again.

“I-I,” he gasps, “I can feel hi-him. I can feel him-him touching m-me.”

“Oh baby, give me a minute and I’ll find something to help you.”

Peter hears her nails tapping on something, she’s probably messaging someone. Peter just lays there breathing, trying to gain control of himself again. 

“Ok Peter, I’m going to grab a few things that may help you. Can I go get them? Will you be safe while I do that?”

Peter nods.

He doesn’t have the energy to do anything crazy but yell.

He hears her leave, her footsteps fast as she goes upstairs and a few minutes later she returns swiftly. 

“Ok baby, I’ve got some things. Peter can I touch your arm sweetie?” 

Peter groans. 

He doesn’t want to be touched.

But he does want the feeling of someone holding his arms and wrists to go away.

Slowly he holds out one arm to his mother.

It lands on a pillow rather then her grasp. Before Peter can look and see where his mother’s hand is, somethings prickly runs along his lower arm. 

The sensation chases away the phantom hands.

After a few moments the sensation moves up his arm. This causes Peter to twitch and look at what his mother is using as it tickles his shoulder.

The sensory roller moves across his skin, the rubber tips on the roller pushing into his skin causing it to get a little pink but also making the bad feelings go away.

“Is this helping Peter?”

Peter nods and holds out his other arm. 

In the silence Peter starts relaxing, closing his eyes and focusing on the roller moving further along his body. 

No wait. 

Peter realizes there isn’t silence. 

Quietly in the distance he can hear the sound of waves and water. The sounds of a beach he’s never been to calmly fill his ears and pushes the whispers away. 

Slowly the sensations lull Peter’s heart and mind to slow down. Drowning in the sensations Peter slowly drifts away from the present.

“…how’s he doing now?”

A quiet voice breaks through the warm darkness holding Peter’s mind.

“Better,” Peter recognizes his mother’s voice.

“What was all that about?” It’s his father who asks. 

“Nightmares. Or rather reliving old memories. He didn’t sleep well and kept having bits of flashbacks. I think he was also upset at himself for not coping well.” 

“What—”

Peter coughs, unable to fight the sensation to eavesdrop more.

“Peter, hey buddy, wanna open those coco brown eyes for us?”

Slow Peter blinks into awareness to find himself still on the floor, his father sitting beside him on the couch and looking down the boy on the floor. His mother leans forward into Peter’s view from his other side, still on the floor. 

The memories of the morning rush into Peter’s mind, the boy begins blinking away the burn of tears in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“Oh sweetie it’s ok,” his mother gently touches Peter’s cheek, Peter leans into it to show he’s ready to be touched.

“No, no it’s not. I acted like a baby,” he whispers. 

“Hey kiddo,” his father crouches down from the couch, “remember what Doctor Sarah said? This will happen, we will all have bad days. That’s why we have the colors and pictures. Remember, Teresa had a bad day not to long ago? And mamma and I use the colors, remember how mamma told me she was in the red when I made the lab explode and was late to the meeting? Bad days happen kiddo.” 

“I still was a baby,” Peter whines. 

“Well if you want to change something for next time, you can always get a tablet and use it instead of trying to keep going until you explode. How’s that sound?”

Peter nods.

“Good, now how about we move to the couch? We can take a little TV break while mom does her work calls?” his father moves back to the couch and beckons to Peter.

The boy climbs up beside the man, tucking into his father’s side as his mom covers the pair with a throw blanket. She gives both a kiss before making her way to the office area. 

“I’m sorry dad,” Peter finally breaks the silence between them. 

“It’s ok Underoos. We love you no matter what,” the man responds. 

“H-he isn’t coming back right?”

“Nope kiddo, he’ll never be able to hurt you ever again.”

“Never ever?”

“Never ever,” his father kisses Peter’s head, "we're here for you buddy. No matter what has happened or what will happen, we're right here."

"Always?"

"Always. Now which movie should I put on?”

“The Incredibles please.”

“Absolutely.”

Peter does have a few more bad days. As does Teresa. As does Morgan. As do both of his parents. But just as Peter was told by his parents that they love him, he reassures them in return. When Morgan cries over having to share everything and missing when she didn’t have to, Peter tells her he still loves her. When Teresa cries because Peter doesn’t spend time with her like he used to, he tells her he loves her. When he finds his father up one night sipping on water in the kitchen looking sad, Peter tells him he is the best dad and wouldn’t trade him for anyone. When Peter finds his mother looking exhausted at her work desk, he reminds her she’s the best mom and is a superhero with everything she does. When Peter wakes to his own scream or the itching feeling of phantom hands touching him, his family comes and reminds him he is loved no matter what. 

Life isn’t perfect, Peter knows this, but his life is good. With his family there for him and loving him, a sentiment he returns, he can get through anything.


End file.
